


The Dead Musicians Society

by brandedforeverlame



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Bullets Era, Depression, Father figure Joe, Immortality, Immortals, M/M, MCR, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non Consentual Turning, Patrick learns guitar, Patrick makes friends, Suicidal Thoughts, There is Peterick cuteness I swear, Vampire Turning, highschool pressure, my chemical romance - Freeform, public boners, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandedforeverlame/pseuds/brandedforeverlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patricks been moved to a new school where he knows nobody by his career-crazy father who is determined to see Patrick become a doctor even if that requires squashing Patrick's other dreams of learning guitar.</p>
<p>But his domineering father might just be the least of his worries as he begins to suspect that someone is watching him everywhere he goes...</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Joe has returned to a human teaching job in order to help his brother Pete regain his humanity after years as a bloodthirsty immortal, due to the traumatic human life Joe had rescued him from... And Joe might just be hoping it'll help him settle his baggage as well.</p>
<p>~ and somehow, amongst all this, two very different worlds begin to merge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burning Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, so this story is actually nearly completely written so I will be drip feeding you chapters as I edit and chapter my writing. Please enjoy and feel free to send me guesses and thoughts on the story as I go. All feedback is appreciate :)

Have you ever felt like someone is watching you?

You feel like maybe someone is following you down the road but if you were to turn… no one's there.

Maybe someone is staring at you from across a busy store but you can’t quite pinpoint the pair of eyes locked on you.

Patrick had an itch on his back, that someone’s gaze was trained on him as he walked down the road from the highway to his house.

The street was narrow and lined with tall hedge maples and neutral coloured bungalows with front gardens that sang ‘we’re the upper crust of the bourgeois’.

He slung his backpack around on one shoulder as he approached a silvery grey two story bungalow half way up the street. A large pine tree being the only thing to break up the front lawn. He dug his house keys out from the front pocket of his bag.

“Patrick,” His mother’s voice called from the kitchen, “Is that you, dear?”

Patrick shuffled into the black and white tiled kitchen and dropped his backpack below the coat rack. His mother, a short soft faced woman with dirty blonde hair cut into a shoulder length bob, came over to the table and placed a glass of orange juice in front of him. She petted a hand through his messy sandy coloured hair affectionately.

"How did your summer classes go today, sweet?"

Patrick grumbled internally before plastering a smile on his face, "They were fine mum."

His mom smiled and headed back over to the fridge, before bringing out makings for a sandwich, "You hungry? Have you eaten much today, you need to keep your energy up and your brain going strong, my smart little pumpkin."

"Mom," Patrick whined, "Do you have to call me that?"

"Yes, i do, darling. Now get your summer assignments out, your father will be home in half an hour. Rest while you can."

Patrick sighed and pulled out multiple folders from his worn backpack which he was pretty sure wouldn't last another year of school.

"Mom, I think I’m going to need a new backpack before Monday," Patrick stacked the folders neatly and pushed his backpack back under the coat rack.

"That's alright dear, your father is taking you shopping tomorrow and we're going to pick up your new school uniform from the tailors. The pants were still a little bit too long..."

Patrick stopped listening. He didn't need to be reminded of how horrifically short he was even for a seventeen year old boy. He knew it damn well and pretty much any bully he'd ever had in his life also made it their business to remind him. He was thankful that as he seemed to get to older grades, most kids stopped bothering with bullying and got too distracted with the crazy amount of work and how hard things suddenly got once they hit junior year. Patrick had managed to adjust just fine to junior year. But in three days’ time he would be starting senior year and that... that might be a different story.

Patrick finished his food and went upstairs to dump the rest of his things before his father finished work. He was pretty sure all his extra credit, summer projects and practice assignments for his subjects were pretty spot on but then again every single little thing in his life had to have the final approval of his father.

Every single tiny thing.

Patrick escaped upstairs to his bedroom. It was a medium room on the second story, right end of the house. His window faced onto the street below. His wall was painted a pale blue, almost white, the carpet was a dark grey and his furniture consisted of a stained pine single bed, large chest of drawers, bookshelf and wardrobe along with a white laminex computer desk.

Patrick pulled out his timetable diary and unfolded some paper in the back. The paper was slightly crumpled but the glossy magazine page showing various guitars for sale on Fenders website made Patrick's chest ache. He wanted to learn so badly. He wanted to play and make beautiful things-

The door downstairs clanged shut and Patrick quickly stuffed the page back in its hiding spot and walked over to his bedroom mirror. His longish blonde hair was neat and tidy but he knew no matter what he did his father would still give subtle hints about cutting it... it was one of the only things his father was lapse on. Patricks rounded cheeks and pudge frame were hidden well under his loose jeans and baggy shirt. He was probably going to get chastised for wearing this but could his father really expect a seventeen year old boy to wear trousers and button downs all the time? No, way too uncomfortable.  
Patrick sighed, straightened out his t-shirt and walked downstairs to meet his father.

Patrick's father was placing his briefcase on the table when the younger male entered. Patrick’s Dad was honestly, in Patricks opinion, what Patrick reckoned he looked like if you aged him, added speckled grey hair with a receding hairline and a bit more of the pudge that Patrick resented in himself.

"Hey Patrick, do you think you're ready for Monday?"

"As I'll ever be," Patrick sighed, "I still don't know about advance chemistry though, Dad. I'll be honest with you."

Patricks Dad shook his head and sighed, "Advanced chemistry is an essential for your goals, son. You're not going to become a surgeon by taking normal twelfth grade chemistry. Hell you should be enrolling in college chemistry and the only reason you missed out was because your head of year suggested it would clash too much with you biology timetable."

Patrick just wished... That everything was not about school for once? What did normal Dad's talk about with their kids? Sports? What they did with their friends? How their freaking day was? Maybe... just maybe, what Patrick wanted to do with his life...?

"I think you might need to revise your introductory paragraph for this one," Patrick grabbed the folder that was handed back to him and stared down at the black sharpie writing that announced that he would have to do MORE chemistry before senior year even began. He grasped at chemistry by the tips of his fingers and would probably be ok in normal chemistry but...

"Patrick, there is still some time before dinner, please look over the paragraph and perhaps tell me if you can see what is wrong with it?"

Ok. Ok.

When Patrick was upstairs in his room he pulled out his laptop, opened up his secret folder of 'music Dad does not approve of', put his earphones in and opened up the folder to the introductory paragraph. His brain already hurt and he hadn't even began to actually write anything.

What was wrong with this? What was?

He was fine. This was fine. Maybe he'd change a few words so at least it looked as if Patrick had done something and then he wouldn't incur the wrath of his father and that... that was always a good thing.

Patrick sighed, closed his laptop and stood up to stretch. He could smell dinner was almost ready and as he looked over to the window he realised it had become dark without him even realising. Patrick pulled the dark navy curtains across the glass quickly but not before he swear he saw a pair of shining eyes coming from the diosma bushes near the front gate.

No, he was tired, delusional and perhaps a little hungry. His eyes caught a weird refraction of light from like a street lamp or something.

Shaking his head, Patrick made his way down to the kitchen and wordlessly helped his mother by setting the table. His mother raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the rare gift.

Patrick's father was watching the 6pm report on TV.

"Patricia," he called, "Can you believe they've found more bodies near the docks. The polices rue saying it's a serial killer's dumping ground but they haven't been able to pull enough evidence. It's crazy. They have these bodies and can't pick a print from one of them?"

"Forensics isn't that simple, Dad," Patrick spoke, "There's a lot more involved and a lot of factors go into whether any evidence is useful or not."

"See that David, Patrick could become a forensic investigator if he doesn't get into medicine."

Patrick heard a deep huff from his father, "But you see, Patricia, Patrick doesn't have to think about anything else because he is well set up on the way to getting into medicine. There is simply no way that he won't get into medicine. None at all."

Patrick gulped and thought of maybe escaping upstairs but he was hungry. The house grew silent except for the sounds of his mother serving up dinner. They all sat at the table and began the meal in silence.

"So do you still have your equipment list on you for tomorrow, I hope you haven't lost it," Patricks Dad took a sip of his beer and looked at Patrick sternly.

"Um, yes, I still do have it, it's in my school diary."

"Good, good. We'll be quick tomorrow, in and out. I might have to go into work in the afternoon to check up on one of our big accounts."

Patrick's parents were both accountants. That was how they'd met. Although, his mum had left the job when she got pregnant with him and had never gone back. She always told she would when she felt ready and Patrick had encouraged her many times but he had a feeling that she was waiting for him to move out to go to college.

Patrick ate his dinner quietly, thinking about the new CD Josh had given him yesterday. He was going to listen to it before he went to bed no matter what. He was going to see his friends for one last get together before his life officially ended on Monday. Aka. Senior year.

Senior year.

Patrick groaned internally and perhaps ate a little bit quicker than he really needed too.

"I'm finished, may I be excused,"

He was up the stairs before his father had fully finished his reply.

Patrick stripped into his pyjamas, crawled under the blankets with his Walkman and summer reading English novel and set to work on trying to forget anything at all about the impending doom that approaching. He could perhaps just ignore it all and it would go away.

Ok, so Patrick was glad he wasn't studying to become a psychologist. He would probably make a pretty bad one, he reckoned. His advice would probably send people crazier than before.

As he listened through the first track he found himself already relaxing in to the melody. It was only very early on in the night but Patrick already felt as if he was drifting off...

A strong gust of wind blew through his window and the curtains flew up over his bed wildly. Patrick scrambled to his feet and almost fell over himself trying to get to the window. He jammed it shut and despite his better judgement looked down into the garden again.

The glowing eyes were gone but Patrick still couldn't shake that itch at the back of his neck.

Have you ever felt like someone was watching you?

 

~~  
~~

 

Pete knew he was so, so fucked before he even locked eyes on the human walking out of the local college campus. The kid was too young to be full time student and it was summer so he instantly guessed summer classes.

Poor Kid.

More poor than he ever could imagine.

Pete didn't dare take another breath of air at the moment because he knew without a doubt the sweet calling scent of the kid’s blood would further congeal on the back of Pete's tongue and he wouldn't be able to resist.

Pete knew he had to get away as fast he could but he also couldn't bear the thought of letting this kid out of his sight. So he did literally the worst possible thing he could think of and shadowed the kid as he walked home. The kid walked along, earphones in his ears and old school David Bowie playing loud enough for Pete's enhanced hearing to pick it up. So it would be almost too easy to take the kid now. He wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings as he walked. The kid had good music taste but Pete wasn't sure if that would be enough to save his life today. He just smelled.... so very, very good.

Pete studied the back of him as he shadowed a distance of one hundred metres behind, nose firmly fastened onto his scent and ears beginning to pick out the distinctive pattern that the boy walked in. He wore baggy blue jeans that were slightly too long for him. So he had rolled them into cuffs which sat awkwardly on the top of his blue and white sneakers. He also wore a khaki green hooded jacket over the top of a light blue t shirt. He had long sort of shaggy blonde hair and large black framed glasses that shaped a sort of squarish face, with a long pointed chin, fair skin and eyes that looked as if they were always dreaming.

Pete watched hidden as he looked both ways before crossing the road, allowing Pete a longer glimpse at his face and Pete felt his whole being vibrate with want. He wanted this kid. He wanted to feed on him first and foremost but amongst other things  
He also felt an insatiable urge to not let anything harm a single hair a top of his head. He watched the way the boy trudged across the road and secretly urged him to cross faster because hell some people speed really fast while driving these days.  
Pete wished he could run across the road and give the kid a lesson in learning to cross the road safely... like he was four years old or something.

Wow. Ok. What was wrong with him?

Pete touched a hand to his chest lightly as he continued to trail the boy who was now walking ever so slightly in time to beat of the song. Pete wanted to know his name. Pete wanted to know what his voice sounded like. Pete wanted to know what his hopes, dreams and wishes were. Pete wanted to know who his favourite band was. Pete wanted to know what kind of face he made when he smelt something he liked, or saw something cute. Pete wanted to know every single tiny detail he could cram inside the endless expanse of his brain.

He would fill up every shred of space with this boy.

Pete thought back to Joe. He knew Joe wanted him to try to kill less... but that was something that was very hard and Pete knew that if he was ever going to try to attempt to not go on a killing spree he had to get his mind away from this kid. Pete would obsess and no matter of blood from other humans would mean a single damn thing. It would all be about the end game and who knew how many people could inexplicably die because of Pete's lack of self control.

He had to follow him though. He couldn't leave with questions unanswered.

The boy turned off the road onto a narrow highway that led across into several adjacent suburbs. Once again, Pete bit his lip as the boy approached the road and Pete's anxiety decided to keep its foot down on full speed even though the boy was walking across a perfectly safe overpass bridge. There was absolutely no chance at all of harm coming to the boy but Pete's whole body felt like it was connected to an electric current. Every nerve ending was live and on double alert. Every car, every human, every sound that happened near by Pete catalogued in his consciousness and kept tabs on as he shot fast as a bullet across the highway and leant against the shade of a building down a side street that the boy would pass but most likely not look down.

Pete needed to know his name.

If the kid was heading back home as Pete assumed, he'd just be able to hang around for a bit listening until at least one person would call him by his name. Pete just hoped it wouldn't take too long because he was starting to get really hungry and he knew that if didn't feed by late tonight he was probably going to end up killing whoever he did feed on. He knew that Joe thought he mindlessly killed for food but Pete did try to leave people alive where he could. He didn't feel excellent about killing but also sometimes he needed to. He knew that it didn't bother him as much as it bothered Joe. Everything seemed to bother Joe. Joe was always sad, no matter what happened or how often Pete tried to make him happy.... in fact Pete could never remember a time in his entire immortal life where Joe hadn't been sad, right there, bubbling underneath the surface of his emotions. Pete barely questioned or noted it at all but he especially noted it whenever Joe talked about important things to Patrick. Pete felt sometimes like he was back in high school again with Joe except he didn't resent it like he'd resented high school. Joe was different.

Joe cared.

Joe would know what to do about this kid.

Pete watched as the kids shoulder suddenly tensed up and before the kid could move further Pete had slid behind the corner of a building. He closed his eyes and listened carefully to the boy. His breathing was pitched and the footsteps had faltered. Pete guessed he had paused in the middle of the sidewalk and was scanning his surroundings. Pete could hear the rustle of his jacket as he moved and the soft scraping sound as he pivoted on his feet and shuffled them slightly.

After another 30 seconds of this, the kid resumed walking in the direction he was headed. Pete resumed following him too, feeling like the fates had come along and tied a long red piece of twine to Pete's ribs and then hooked it on the boy and Pete had no option but to hang on for dear life and try and enjoy the ride..

Pete really wanted to know the kids name.

The boy turned down a smaller very well off looking street. It looked almost like the suburb has been built around the trees rather than the other way around. Pete liked the place and even though it wasn't far back to his own house, this suburb was vastly different in design.

Pete watched as the kid walked up to the front door of a bungalow and once inside Pete climbed a tree nearest the house and waited for the noise. Doors opening and closing, a cupboard being open and shut and the sigh of the kid as he sat down.

"Patrick-"

Pete grinned wider than he'd ever done so before in his life. He was Patrick. The beautiful boy had a name, it was Patrick and basically Pete could already seem him writing Patrick's name all over a notebook like a love struck teenage girl.  
Pete stayed a little while longer, watching the boy as he retreated upstairs to his windows.

Pete's hunger soon got too much. He had to feed. He had to feed right now because otherwise Pete could very end up killing Patrick's entire family and he was pretty sure Patrick wouldn't appreciate that.

Pete sighed as he ran off.

Patrick. His name is Patrick.

 

~~  
~~

 

Patrick had his nose stuck in an autobiography of David Bowie in Barnes and Noble. His father only let him drive to school and on weekends IF he had finished all his homework. Thankfully though, with School starting tomorrow his father had lapsed and told him to have a little fun before he had to ‘get his head back in the game’. Patrick sighed and flipped over to a vivid photo of Ziggy Stardust.

There was the itch again.

Patrick tensed up and spun around only to come face to face with a short man in a Barnes and Nobles t shirt. He had straight black hair with a side swept fringe that complimented his olive skin. His eyes were bright despite the fact they were surrounded with very subtle eyeliner. He had a grin on his face which made Patrick’s heart skip a couple of beats.

“Hi, welcome to Barnes and Noble, can I help you find anything?”

Patrick took a deep breath and mentally chastised himself. He been all freaked out over one of the employees in the store. A hot one at that; mind you but he was so not opening that gate. That was a gate to be opened when Patrick had his degree and could move as far away from his father as possible. Very far away.

“Uhh, not at the moment, I’m just browsing, thanks…”

“Well ok, if you want me to find you a biography on Bowie that is seven times better than the one you’re holding, then I’m just two isles away,” He winked and walked away.

Oh my god…

Patrick tried to turn back to his book, all the words and pictures and colours seemed to morph in a soup of nonsense. He took a deep breath and looked back in the direction the incredibly attractive shop assistant had walked. He suddenly really did want to know more about those Bowie biographies. He really wanted to just hear anything that the assistant wanted to say to him.

Except that two isles away there was absolutely nobody. Patrick slumped a little like someone had cut his puppet strings.

He wasn’t giving up that easy.

“Excuse me, I was just talking to another employee of yours, he had straight black hair and was wearing eyeliner,” As soon as Patrick finished his question he realise just how stupid it sounded even before the very confused look had formed on the poor girls face.

“Um, as far as I know none of the guys here wear eyeliner… to work that is, whatever they wanna do in their spare time is-”

“Thanks anyway,” Patrick hurried away before he could become anymore embarrassed than he already felt.

Patrick returned his books to the shelves and was about to power walk around a corner that he was sure was in the direction of the front door when he suddenly slammed right into somebody so hard that he literally slammed into the ground behind him.

Patrick groaned, grabbed his head and he climbed to his feet.

“Fuck,” he whispered, prodding gently at the egg shaped lump on the back of his head. He poked too hard and tears formed in his eyes. His head swam and he clutched at a bookshelf to steady himself, he felt cold hands grab the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you alright,” Patrick looked up to his collision partner and came face to face with a small heavily tattooed ginger guy with long hair, glasses and a pair of eyes that made Patrick stare. Not because he was attractive (Patrick could see this objectively, he was not actually attracted to him though) but because Patrick felt like someone with warm hands had grabbed his eyeballs and attached puppet strings to them. Patrick saw the shop assistants face swim into his vision in a way he had never experienced before, it was like someone grabbed a photo of his memory and shoved it in front of his eyes in high definition.

Patrick blinked hard and the ginger patted his arm warily, “Careful where you’re going, dude, you’ll really hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

Patrick, still rubbing his head, watched as the ginger disappeared behind a particularly tall bookcase, unsure, but with a peculiar feeling, that the friendly warning meant something else completely.


	2. Chapter 2 - Long View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its Joes first day on the job
> 
> ~ 
> 
> Patrick really likes his new English teacher

Joe laid quite still in his bed and listened to the rain outside. It was raining and it was only just the end of summer… But then again this was Chicago. He liked to hear the rain, it allowed him to breathe easier through the constant unwavering pain in his chest…

Not that he actually needed to breathe.

Joe’s eyes flicked open suddenly at the sound of a loud crash downstairs, He was standing in the kitchen in under a second.  
Pete was also standing there looking very shocked… at the still twitching body on the tiles.

“Literally, what the fuck, Pete. I have work tomorrow, I do not have the time to be cleaning up your dinner, oh my god.”

Pete looked guilty… but only for one second, “Don’t worry I can take care of it.”

“You better take care of it, and far away from here. I do not want to lose this job, also our first chance of halfway decent human interaction in a very long time, because you can’t dispose of a body correctly,” Joe shook his head, if he was human he would have a headache right now.

Pete picked up what looked like a middle aged guy and dragged him along the tiles. Joe shuddered at the squeaking of the guy’s shoes. He went up behind Pete and picked the guys feet up in an attempt to rescue his poor ears.

“Thanks man.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” Joe snapped.

Pete stopped in his tracks and dropped the guy to the floor with a sickening crunch. The guy shuddered a little more and finally went still.

“What is your problem, Joe? I thought you were happy to be here?”

Joe sighed, “I am happy but Pete you can’t keep acting like you did in Ohio, ok? We have to be inconspicuous here. I don’t need the police thinking there’s serial killers in town and I don’t want anyone to find-“

Pete reached over and clapped a hand over Joe’s mouth.

“Please hush your worry, Trohman. All will be well. I won’t be such a slob I promise. I’ll try not to kill with every feed. I’ll be…” Pete took a deep breath like the next part would hurt him, “Conservative.”

Joe nodded and Pete took his hand away and returned back to the task of dragging the body to the garage.

“You know what are the chances of you getting pulled over with a body in the trunk on the night you promise to start being conservative,” Joe mused idly.

Pete laughed and slammed the boot shut on top of the unfortunate victim “Thanks for the positive vibes, bro.” 

Joe smiled and walked back into the house, before quickly walking to the bathroom to wash his hands. He splashed water on his face as he heard the purr of Pete’s car get further away. Pete was younger and hungrier than him. Joe still fed but Joe didn’t care much for killing anyone. It didn’t gross him out completely, it couldn’t, that’s just how genetic makeup was designed. But he definitely didn’t make a game of it, like Pete still did on the occasion. Pete was getting better with age but Joe still worried. 

He couldn’t help it. Pete was younger. Pete was Joe’s responsibility.

Joe was doing this for Pete. If Joe could be dipped back into humanity maybe he could help Pete retain his.

Joe walked over to his closet and checked up once again on the trousers, button down and tie he had set aside for tomorrow. He’d already done a covert tour on Friday with the Principal and it had almost creeped Joe out to see an entire school so empty… Joe knew though that by the end of the year he would probably long for that emptiness amongst the noise of Chicago’s teenagers. He missed that noise, vastly different yet still the very same, from when he was in the crowd creating the song. 

Anyone looking in on Joes and Pete's life might take a moment to wonder why Joe would take this job. Why would Joe take a job like this when he and Pete were... well, like they were.

Humanity.

It came back to the humanity again.

Losing yourself inside your mind, instincts, all the gruesome stuff that came with the condition the brothers were in.

Joe sighed and went back to bed. Pete would return soon and it would be all fine.

~

Joe awakened on Monday morning with a coil in his stomach. Today. Today was... well he started today. No more waiting around to implement the plan, the plan went ahead today. Joe would immerse himself. He would relearn everything he'd forgotten. He would bring it home to Pete. Pete could learn control and things would be safer. Pete would go back to his true old self that Joe remembered before he-

Joe needed to get up soon. He had a plan to be early, at least by fifteen minutes. He hated being late or even just on time. So on his first day he had to be very early. He walked out to his car, ignoring the heavy smell of blood coming from the direction of Petes camero. He'd have to make sure Pete cleaned that before he took the damn car out again. 

Everything was going to be good.

Joe pulled into the teachers parking lot to find only eight other cars, including the principals, were parked already... for a school with two hundred staff that meant Joe could sneak in and worry about the numerous introductions later when he was already safely in the staff room. He didn't actually teach his first class until second period which he was grateful for not only because the principal intended on showing him some other things but because Joe had made his coffee far too hot and didn't want to waste it.

"Ah, Joseph Trohman," The Principal, Mr Gobin, greeted him with a sharp pat on the back. Joe flinched internally but plastered a smile on for his new boss. Mr Gobin was a short man with a strange squarish face whose complexion made him look like he was recovering from running a marathon. His sandy brown hair had now receded half way across his head and the remaining hair was clipped neatly. He eyes perpetually squinted like he needed glasses but was too stubborn to get them and his brown tweed suit was ill fitted with too long sleeves.

He fit the bill for a downtrodden teacher who had fought foot tooth and nail through perhaps twenty years of teaching in public schooling to get to private schools and climbed up by the tips of his fingers into a principal’s job.

"Please, Dave. Just call me Joe."

"Well, alright Joe but I'm still going to have to introduce you by your full name to everyone else. You aren't one of those teachers that just ask the kids to call them by their first name, are you?"

Yes.

"Uh, no, no. Mr Trohman is fine for them but you and my colleagues can just me Joe."

Mr Gobin smiled and led Joe into the giant meeting room where all the staff would be gathering for a quick meeting before the start of year assembly for the students.

"We aren't one of the best secular private schools in Chicago for nothing. Generations of my family, my father, grandfather and further have all been principals of this school. We've worked hard to get where we are and I know you'll do your hardest to uphold the schools reputation," Joe was listening to Gobin but he also wasn't. He was trying very hard not to let his anxiety get the best of him at the thought of all these people who now get to meet him. If something because too much stress for someone like him… Well it was fight or flight. Joe was in a position where none of his normal reactions to that were appropriate to even reveal. He had to deal with this like a regular human and some small part of him was glad that he was what he was although 

Joe rarely had any sentiment of that sort... EVER.

"Good morning team, I hope everyone is back and refreshed from the summer break. Now I'm gonna give quick introductions before we head off to the assembly. Everyone this is our new senior English teacher, Mr Joseph Trohman, though he insists he prefers Joe. I hope everyone is welcome and helpful to him. Ok and now just a few more points of bus.

Joe stared around the room and studying everyone present. Too many to individually catalogue right but he would work away at it.

Instead he focused on a pair of very focused blue eyes looking at him across the crowd of staff. It belonged to a man of high stature, short dark brown hair and a grin that said mischief... He wore black jeans, a short sleeved white button down with the collar turned up slightly with a black waist coat over the top. He reminded Joe of Pete. Joe would have to introduce himself on the way to the assembly if the opportunity presented itself. 

 

The staff trudged out of the offices and headed over to the gymnasium which was one of the only indoor places big enough to fit the entire school. Joe stuck close to the principal and once inside his eyes blew wide as the site of seeing a number of students he knew before, physically embodied in a mass. This caused him to realise he was really shitty at picturing numbers. He knew this wasn't a huge school but once everyone was all together… Well this was something else.

Mr Gobin motioned Joe over to a chair near the left centre stage, just off the speakers podium. Joe felt like a semi important visiting officiary. He grinned internally and listened as Mr Gobin waved for the students to fall into silence. Finally a room of over a thousand people had gone silent in wait for the principal. Joe had honest to god, in all his years of pubic schooling, never seen a teacher command that much control and actually pull it off successfully.

Joe suddenly knew how, despite his unimpressive appearance, Gobin had kept his principals lineage.

“Good morning Students, and faculty. I'm so glad to welcome you back to another year of learning and achievement. Before I say anything else I will begin with some announcements. Uniform check this morning was 97% without breach and for that I congratulate you, it's easy to forget little things over the summer but you have all proved yourselves worthy students of this prestigious school and so a congratulations on that. Secondly I'd like to say welcome to some of our new staff this year. First of all we have Mr Urie –“

The dark haired blue eyed man from the staff room stepped forward and Joe was glad to finally put a name to a face that he was so sure he'd seen somewhere else… 

“- Mr Urie will be teaching joining the arts departments. You'll see him in music which brings me to our next newcomer, Mr Trohman.”

Joe took a deep breath, stepped forward and waved towards the students.

“Mr Trohman is our new head of senior school English and will be teaching the Senior English students.”

Joe tried to make it look casual and relaxed as he took his seat again. The gymnasium gave him a polite welcoming applause.

Mr Gobin droned on for a little bit longer while Joe catalogued what he said in case he was drilled on it later. His mind wondered to his very first class he would be having in fifteen minutes. He was excited and nervous. He wanted to build a rep with his students. He wanted his students to like him not out of some need for self approval but because he knew that everyone's learning experience would be so much smoother and easier if they weren't afraid of him. Until now most people were afraid of him. But they needed to be in Joe and Petes world in order to get left alone. People needed to know they couldn't fuck with you because their world was a constant power struggle especially if you showed weakness. That was why for so long Joe and Pete had been continuously on the move, which was also why this whole project was incredibly delicate.

Once the assembly was over Joe followed the faculty out of the back door of the gym and headed towards his classroom.  
Joe unlocked his new classroom with the keys Gobin had handed him earlier and in a moment of brief solitude he checked his phone.

Not a single message from Pete. That was really weird… 

Perhaps he should call him before class started…

As if Pete was psychic (that was sometimes debatable) Joes phone began to ring… If was indeed Pete.

“Hey Pete, better make this quick because my class starts in five minutes.”

“Stress less, BroJoe. Just giving you updates cos I know exactly what you're like. In a nutshell I'm exploring town and yes I promise not to kill anyone.

“That's incredibly reassuring Pete, thank you.” 

“You're welcome JoTroh, anyway how is snob city?”

Joe snorted, “they're not that bad, to be honest. Private schools are much better than they were in my day.”

“Joe?”

“Yes?”

“You cannot compare private school from eighty years ago to modern day private school,” said Pete, “whereas me? Kids that were in school with me are probably still alive with teenage grandkids now.”

“Pete, I am aware of the age difference,” Joe reminded him. 

“Yeah and you're the one who is teaching, go figure,” Pete sighed, “OK, so I gotta things to see and people to follow.”

“-what?”

“So I gotta now.”

Joe gripped his phone, “Pete, you are joking, right?”

“Yes, oh my god, bye now. Have fun with the Rugrats.”

Pete hung up and Joe stared at his phone for another minute until the siren for the beginning of the period went. Joe stuffed his phone into his pocket and went to unlock the door the classroom….

Here we go.

 

~~  
~~

 

Patrick shifted uncomfortably in his heavy starchy blazer. He knew he would appreciate the garment when it came to the freezing Chicago winter but it was still only just leaving summer and he just didn't need it.

He awkwardly slipped out of it as he climbed up the stairs leading to the senior classrooms, carefully folded it and stashed it away in his backpack hoping it wouldn't get too crumbled. He clutched the novel they'd been assigned to read over the summer. He was about to open it to quickly read some more before the class started but the sound of the classroom door being unlocked stopped him in his tracks. He closed the book and lined up with the rest of the students as they filed into the classroom.

"Please take a seat wherever, we'll worry about seating later on," Patrick chose a seat to the left side and in the middle row. As he sat down he watched the new English teacher begin to write on the board, "Mr Trohman" even though Patrick remembered him from the assembly this morning at least he knew how to spell his name properly. 

"Ok, so Hi everyone. I'm going to keep that on the board," he gestured towards his name, "Because it is considered unorthodox by the principal for me to allow what I am about to tell you that you can do, so if any other teacher or faculty member enters or asks I am Mr Trohman..."

Mr Trohman went to his desk and sat on top of it.

"But you guys can just call me Joe."

There was a round of whispers over the classroom. Patrick knew very well that at any other normal school that it wasn't uncommon for teachers to do this but Patrick's parents paid a ridiculous amount of money this year for him to come to a school that wasn't like your average school. 

Teachers weren't called by their first names.

Patrick opened his notebook and grabbed a pen just in case.

"However, just like any other teacher, I am going to ask for introductions so we can get to know each other a little bit. Hmm... how about... you in the middle, blonde hair, What's your name?"

Patrick swallowed quickly, of course he would get picked first.

"Patrick, Sir."

"And what is one of absolute favourite things to do when you want to relax?"

"Um, listen to music."

Patrick groaned quietly as Joe walked over and leant against the wall near his desk. Patrick heard a snicker from behind him and something nasty being whispered but it was too quiet for him to make it out.

Joe, however, seemed to have heard it crystal clear.

"And what are your names," Joe walked behind Patrick, leaving the briefest of pats on his shoulder and faced the two boys behind him.

"Shane, Sir," Shane Dawson, the one who had snickered and whispered something to the boy next to him.

"And you?" 

"Brent, Sir."

"Well Brent, Shane, I don't see what is so particularly hilarious about someone talking about something they love. So tell me, have you finished the novel that was assigned over the summer? And answer me truthfully i will know if you're lying."

Shane and Brent looked quiet. 

"No," Shane admitted. Brent started blushing and shook his head.

"Ok, so one thing you need to do to be successful in this classroom is to finish the assigned reading. English and it's core elements are the basis for almost every single career or future path you could ever dream of having. If you can not at least try in English, how can you try with anything else?"

Patrick watched as Joe stopped, took a deep breath and turned to face the two boys.

"Ok, ‘Whenever you feel like criticising someone just remember that all people in the world haven't had the advantages that you've had.’ Do you know who said that? It is in the opening paragraph of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The assigned reading for the summer. This quote, when interpreted to this current situation, means that I'm not going to assume any reason as to why you didn't do you assigned reading. I'm not going to assume any reason why you think it's ok to laugh at Patrick here. I cannot know why you act like you do but you should remember this. The quote can be changed to something as equally useful and memorable. Before you go to do something, say something to anyone that is not in kind intentions just remember that you have no idea what this person came from, where they are now or how they are travelling. You don't know the life they live or what they go through. In finishing I will not tolerate anything other than total respect amongst everyone in this room and that is all I will say on the subject."

Patrick blinked and felt a little part of himself quickly start to idolise the men next to him. That was the coolest and most true speech he'd ever heard. That had to have been rehearsed no one could just pull that out of nowhere without preparation.

“So now we’ve established that important part of my classroom, I just want to say. I love English. I loved it when I was in school and even if you don’t love it I want to be able to help you to at least pass. You’re in senior year. This is important. I am not your enemy. I am here to help you.”

As the lesson steadily progressed, Patrick could tell he was definitely going to enjoy English this year. If only the rest of his teachers would be as amazing as Mr Trohman.

The siren to signal the end of second period was almost saddening. Patrick slowly packed up his things and trudged through the classroom towards the door. He had almost reached the door when Mr Trohman called out to him.

Patrick swivelled around to face his new favourite teacher. Joe motioned for him to come to the desk. Patrick walked up to the desk and stood still, not sure where to look. 

“Patrick, I’d hate to keep you from your friends-”

“- I don’t have any friends in this school, Mr Trohman,” Patrick replied a little too quickly.

“Please, call me Joe. And you don’t have any friends in this school?”

Patrick nodded, “My friend Josh is across town for this year because I transferred. He was the only one that I liked talking to. 

Mostly everyone would just ignore me or react like Shane and Brent do. They also got sent here this year by their parents. They hate me but our parents are all friends and they liked my Dads idea.”

Joe sighed angrily and Patrick swear he saw a flash of something across his eyes but that didn’t make sense…

“Patrick, I just want you to know that my ideals about respect don’t have to only exist in the classroom. I want you to feel like you can come to me if you need about anything. If there is anything I hate more in this world, it’s bullying… and country music. But let’s not get into that.”

Patrick let out a giggle and his face went bright red.

“I agree with you there, Sir.”

Joe smiled.

"I'm glad someone else out there has common sense when it comes to music."

Patrick smiled sadly and made to turn around.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sir. I'm getting hungry."

"See you tomorrow Patrick, and don't forget what i said."

Patrick had a feeling he wouldn't be forgetting what Joe had said for a very long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give me feedback on Joe, I love writing him but he is so rarely written in fics. Please comment what you think?


	3. Chump

Joe pulled the car into the garage and let out a deep sigh. Today had been mentally tiring (physical tiredness didn't happen often to his kind). He was looking forward to going inside and checking what Pete had been up to all day.

"Pete? You home?"

There was a shuffling and Pete came sprinting down the stairs. He launched himself from the second to bottom step right onto Joe. If Joe wasn't so used to this occurrence he might have been knocked over. Instead Pete wrapped his legs around Joes waist and clung to his neck as he hugged him.

"Wow, It was strange not having you here today. I'm so used to it."

"My day in a school full of teenagers was peaceful compared to my usual day with you," Joe shot, trying to untangle Pete's limbs from his body.

Pete pouted and punched Joe in the arm, "That's not fair. I'm a very peaceful person."

"Right. Did you kill anyone today," Joe asked, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a beer. He was so glad he could still drink these.

"No," Pete said, "I actually tried for once, believe it or not. But there is this really great smelling human that i followed a bit but they ended up at your school and i knew you'd get mad if i came in so i just went for another walk."

"Pete, i thank you for your consideration because for the love of god I cannot have you killing one of my students."

Pete nodded, "Yeah, yeah i know, i know. Believe it or not I actually am aware that killing humans is frowned upon in mainstream society."

"That's putting it lightly."

Pete huffed, "Why do you always act like you've never killed before."

"I don't kill now-"

"No, but you have in the past and you seem to conveniently forget that when it's ‘judge Pete’ time," Joe could feel Pete starting to get worked up and put his arms around the younger immortal again.

"I'm sorry if i seem judgemental. I am just doing this because I want something better for you. I want something better for us. I don't want you living in the sewers somewhere or in some shady rabid den somewhere. You deserve better than that. You deserve a human world."

"What's so good about a human world, anyway," Pete muttered.

"You know, I'm surprised you don't remember as much as I do considering you're younger than me."

Pete sighed, "You never knew heaps about my human life, did you Joe?"

Joe was silent.

"I saw a lot of the good stuff, I wasn't there when it happened, I only saw the end of it all."

"Well if you knew you'd understand why maybe I have forgotten a lot of it... by choice."

Joe remembered the tales he'd heard of others driving themselves crazy on blood and living purely off their instincts, losing their human minds all in an effort to forget the trauma endured before their turning... they never ended well and a pang of fear shot through Joe's chest. 

"Is it so bad to remember?"

Pete hugged Joe for another second longer before letting go.

"Sometimes I wish I could forget it all."

~

Joe walked into his bedroom and stripped down to his underwear and a t-shirt. He slipped under the covers, set his morning alarm on his phone and closed his eyes. Rain began to fall heavily and Joe listened in the dark as the storm that had been poking its head over the horizon all afternoon finally hit. He was almost lulled off to sleep when he felt the covers being drawn back and Pete curled himself up against Joe like the little spoon. Joe sighed and threw his arm over Pete's chest. Pulling the younger creature into him. After all these years the shared blood in their veins still caused them to crave co sleeping and truly they only ever got the best sleep together. It soothed the younger and more volatile brother whereas Joe seemed to feel more calm having Pete right there against him. He could watch over him even when he himself was unconscious. He had a grip on him to protect from danger.

The two blood brothers quickly fell asleep. 

~ 

Joe opened his eyes but knew that he was very much still asleep. He felt like he was watching a television show. He knew he was dreaming but it didn't feel like his dream? He watched as her turned a corner down a street and passed a shop window. With a start he saw his reflection... No- Pete's reflection.

This was Pete's dream.

Ok so Joe had heard that telepathic dream connection could occur amongst cosleeping immortals if the emotions and dreams were loud enough.

Pete's dream was yelling. He was following a scent... a scent that threatened to knock him out and drown him all at once. Joe recognised the scent but couldn't remember where from. He had never smelled it in such capacity before. Only in a lukewarm hue. But this scent was pure, concentrated and rich. It was dragging Pete along like someone had attached a hook to his nose and was reeling him in.  
Joe watched interestingly as Pete turned the corner and stopped at the edge of the school where Joe worked.

Pete hadn't told him what his scent tracking had been like!

Joe heard the lesson siren blare out and watch as hoards of student piled out of building and began walking across to others buildings.

The scent got closer and Joe felt like, even though he was in a dream, he would faint again. It was overwhelming. Joe could feel it zinging through every fibre in Pete's being like electricity. 

Joe realised then what Pete didn't know. 

This was a siren scent.

It had to be! Siren scents were rare and often impossible to resist, especially for the new and those with questionable control.

Pete was going to end up killing this kid and Joe knew that no matter what happened it would be damn near impossible to stop Pete from doing so. 

Pete was going to kill this kid from Joes school and Joe still couldn't see a glimpse of the poor unfortunate soul. If he still remembered the scent in the morning maybe he could track down the poor thing and encourage them to get out and leave while they still could. 

Damnit. Damnit. This is just what they freaking needed. Just when Joes planned seemed to be coming along without any major hiccups.

But before Joe could continue to lament, he felt himself sucked out of the dream and into reality. He blinked hard at the darkness around him and his night vision kicked in. He glanced around the room and then down at Pete's peaceful sleeping face and then closed his eyes again.

What had he been worried about?

~

When the morning came Joe woke to Pete wriggling out of the spoon and rolling off the bed with a large thud followed by a fit of giggles from the floor.

"Morning Pete," Joe muttered sleepily, rolling over in bed and stretching out like a cat. He of course had forgotten all about the all too vivid dream from last night and without a worry slowly and casually got out of bed. Pete laid on the floor and hummed as Joe pulled on his shirt and began to tie his tie in a Windsor knot.

"I don't know how you can stand to wear ties," Pete called out, sitting up on the ground. He stretched out too and yawned a huge yawn that imprinted right back onto Joe. Joe’s mouth stretched out wide as he pulled the knot into space.   
"I wear what i have to, I guess."

Pete looked thoughtful, "I would make a terrible teacher, I think. I could never wear what teachers wear."

Joe snorted, "Not all teacher wear this, Pete. It's not an official uniform. Public school teachers wear whatever. Just like jeans and a t-shirt whatever you want."

Pete stood up and went to shuffle through Joe's t-shirt drawer, "Maybe I could teach public school. I could teach music I bet. Don't you think?"

Joe's heart swelled with pride a little bit.

"You would have to go to college first, so you could get your teaching degree."

Pete grinned, "I loved college. College is heaps of fun!"

Joe laughed, "Pete, we're not talking about the three times you tried to college in the last forty years and ended up just going to frat parties all the time. That doesn't constitute as proper college."

"I could totally do the work," Pete insisted, "I just never had anything I was particularly interested in, is all."

Joe was still largely unconvinced that Pete could get his teaching degree but who was he to dissuade Pete from such a positive goal that, better yet, didn't involve killing anyone!

Pete shuffled around after Joe as Joe got ready and even hopped in the car next to Joe.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a lift into town."

Joe sighed, "Ok, but I'll be running late if I take you fully into town I'm just going to park at the school and you can run from there."

"That's ok, I like running," Pete insisted, chewing bubble gum as Joe started the engine. 

The drive to school would have been quiet but Pete spent the whole time fiddling with the radio stations. Joe worked on blocking that out and concentrating on driving.

They were a street away from the school and Joe pulled over the side of the road. 

"I can't bring you into the teacher’s car park with me, it's monitored. Sorry."

Pete sighed heavily, popped a bubble in his gum and climbed out of the car, "Later JoeTroh."

"Be good."

Pete's laughter echoed in Joe's ears as he turned the corner and drove up the driveway to the school. He scanned his pass at the boom gate and watched as passing students avoided the puddles as to not get them in serious trouble come uniform check. He grabbed his book bag out and headed to the staff room. Hoping he still had enough time to make a coffee before the days classes began.

Joe ran into Brendon, standing by the coffee machine, stirring a sugar into his coffee.

“Morning Brendon, how’s things?”

Brendon groaned and took a big gulp of coffee.

“Things would have been better if I hadn’t been kept up all night by the storm.”

Joe frowned, “I only hear the beginning of it and then I went to sleep.”

“Well you sir must have slept through the worst of it. Although, I don’t know how.” 

Joe knew it was because of Pete, though. There was no chance either of them could have slept through something as stimulating to their kind as a storm without some seriously close co sleeping going on.

Brendon smiled at Joe, took a sip of his coffee and leant against the kitchen counter as Joe moved in for caffeine. 

“We should hang out sometime outside of work, Joe. My students seem to rave about you. I think you're a cool guy.” 

Joe mentally tensed up for a moment before chastising himself. This is what you want. You want to immerse yourself to help Pete, this is what you gotta do.

“Sure thing, what were you thinking?”

“Well there's this sangria night at corner bar on Friday. Karaoke if I remember correctly. I'll get a couple of others to come as well. I'll get Mr. H to come to, he's not back from his travels yet but he's head of arts with me. He did my interview last semester, I reckon you'd like him.”

Joe smiled and nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. Brendon's eyes flickered with excitement, “awesome! I'll organise it. Can't wait.”

Joe watched as Brendon grabbed his bag and headed out the door as the siren for first period rang. Joe picked up his cup and headed towards the door. When was the last time he socialised with humans? More importantly, when was the last time he'd socialised with humans and it hadn't ended in a blood bath?

 

~

 

Joe’s attempt to encourage the students to discuss the deeper meaning behind Daisy Buchannan’s actions ended exactly how he expected it to go.

“She's a tease.” 

“She's leading Gatsby on.”

Joe felt like smacking his head against a wall but then he reminded himself this was his job, to teach. 

“I am not discounting your interpretations but allow me to put you in Daisy's mind for a few moments.”

 

~~  
~~

 

Patrick glared at the rain that was coming down as his Mom pulled into the school parking lot. If it was going to rain at least it couldn’t it wait until he was safely in the warm, heated school building? He was going to look like a drowned rat by the time he made it inside. 

“Did you forgot you umbrella,” Patrick's Mom noticed his scowl and handed him her umbrella, “take mine, darling.”

“Mom, you'll get soaked-”

“Nonsense I'm just going to the store,” she smiled, patting his head and leaning over to kiss his cheek, “have fun darling.”

Patrick jumped out of the car, opened the umbrella, and power walked as fast as he dared towards the building. Patrick didn't need to slip over as well and he was liable to do so even on dry days if he went too fast.

Patrick was glad for one thing when it came to his father’s determination that Patrick achieve academic greatness; Patrick had never been forced to play sports.

Patrick sailed through the day, wet feet and all, with little problem until he came to home time. He sat down at down on the benches at the edge of the student car park because he couldn't see his Moms car anywhere. He pulled out his phone and called her.

“Hey, Mom. Where are you, Schools out?”

“Sorry Baby, the car broke down half way there, I'm on newton waiting for the tow truck. Call a cab and take the money out of the jar on the fridge.”

Patrick nodded, “Ok Mom, I might stop and look around the mall for a bit first.”

“OK, have fun, don't be home too late, and love you!”

“Love you too, Mom, Bye,” Patrick slipped his phone back into his back, hitched his bag over his shoulder and began walking towards the road. The weather dry now thankfully. There was a mall only three blocks over that had a really great record store. 

Patrick slipped his earphones into his ears and turned on his Walkman. He just wished his father would let up on the music thing a little bit so he could put it on his phone instead of having to dig through the electrical departments in thrift stores until he'd found the Walkman. Josh had spent a good half an hour laughing at him for that until he'd seen Patricks face and had apologised for just about the same amount of time.

Patrick missed Josh. He would have to try and go see him on the weekend if his father deemed him far enough ahead on his homework. Patrick sighed and tried to single out the bass line on the song and he continued down the road. Cars spun by as the traffic of the end of the school and work came to full capacity. Patrick was glad he didn't need to cross the road anytime soon. He'd either have to wait ten minutes at a pedestrian crossing or play fucking Russian roulette. He felt like neither.

As Patrick walked his thought drifted back to the Barnes and Noble employee with the eyeliner... Patrick still wasn't sure whether he was real or whether he'd dreamt him up. Maybe he'd had a lucid daydream in the middle of Barnes and Noble due to the stress of the impending school year. God, what would he be like come exam time? 

Patrick didn't think he was that stressed. He had to be real. But the other employees had told him no one of that description worked there?

Patrick shook his head harshly, earning a strange look from a woman passing him on the side walk. Maybe Patrick had finally cracked after all these years of stress and lost his mind before he father could see his precious surgeon graduate.

Patrick in all his thought tripped and stumbled over a crack in the pavement. He didn't fall but his face starting burning and he walked quicker hoping no one had been paying attention. He felt something bubbling up inside his chest and his eyes locked on the next street where a large manicure park with a playground and garden was. Patrick walked through the gate and practically sprinted over to the gazebo seating. He propped his bag against his leg and turned up his music really loud as he took deep breaths and watched a young family walk away happily from the swing set. Patrick breathed deeply, held it and then let it out slowly. After about a minute he had closed his eyes and developed a pattern in time with the beat of a slower song that was playing through his ears. 

A small pebble hit him directly in the cheek. Patrick jumped up startled, the earphone ripped out of his ears and the Walkman clattered to the ground with a resounding crack.

"Fuck," he hissed, reaching down to inspect his source of peace. The top cover of the Walkman had a deep crack running through it. Patrick slowly pressed the opening mechanism and it popped open to reveal a shattered CD.

Patrick thought he might cry. Fuck. Who the fuck had thrown a pebble at him, he was going to KILL THEM.

Patrick looked around frantically and felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes rested on the dark haired dude swinging on the swing set. He had a shiny look in his eyes.

It was the Barnes and Noble guy. 

"Watch what you're doing, asshole! You broke my fucking Walkman!"

Patrick startled even himself with the waves of rage that were rolling over him. He had NEVER been rude to a stranger before. He'd never have the guts because who knew who this guy was. He probably just fucking yelled at a serial killer and his body would be discovered three weeks from now in the bottom of the fucking Chicago river.

Fuck. What had come over him?

Patrick hastily stuffed the broken Walkman into bag and made to leave before. Desperately avoiding looking in the direction of what was probably going to be his impending doom.

"Hey!"

Patrick walked faster. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he reached the entrance to the park. He did want to be fucking murdered. Oh my god, why the fuck had he shouted at a complete stranger.

He's not a stranger though. You've met him before.

"Shut up, shut up," Patrick hissed at himself as he tried to blend into a group of people exiting a supermarket. He knew he was barely an entire block from the mall. If he could just get into somewhere filled with people he would be fine. He would be fine. He would be-

Patrick turned around briefly to see if he could see the guy following him.

No sign of him. The Street looked empty.

Patrick thought of the broken CD which he'd been listening to constantly for the past few weeks. He would have to ask Josh to burn him another copy otherwise he didn't know how he'd survive.

Patrick's lungs burned and he started getting a stitch in his side as power walked the last few meters until he hit the entrance to the mall. He slowed slightly when he finally made it through the sliding door. He kept up his pace until he found a small cafe inside the food court and bought a bottle of Gatorade. The lady behind the counter probably thought he was a nut. A short pudgy boy wearing a now crumple private school uniform and lugging a heavy book bag rocks up in your workplace puffed and sweaty....

Patrick collapsed into a booth and savoured the rest of his drink. His felt like his heart was pounding in his head and he hoped he wasn't about to have a heart attack or something. He wouldn't put it past his luck today for that to happen.

Patrick pulled out his phone. He'd only been walking for half an hour.

It was probably only ten minutes since the park incident. Patrick closed his eyes and so those shiny charcoal eyes staring right into his head.

He snapped his eyes open quickly. He blinked and looked around the café.

"Patrick, you are letting paranoia get the best of you," He whispered to himself before taking off his glasses and wiping a hand across his dripping forehead. He looked down at the sleeve of his white button up school shirt and grimaced before rolling both sleeves up to his elbows. He wasn't used to doing any sort of physical activities in these clothes, the school had a gym class uniform that was more suited for that stuff. 

His mother was probably going to complain about the sweat stains.

Patrick shook his head again, picked up his bag, straightened his uniform out and exited the cafe. He still wanted to head over to the record store. He might as well while he was still here. He walked up to the second floor. He headed in the direction of the quiet and dark store in the far corner of the floor next to an empty shop and a discount chemist. 

"Hey there," The shopkeeper behind the counter greeted him cheerfully. He had long brown wavy hair and a very tall thin frame which he covered in light coloured skinny jeans and graphic tees. Patrick nodded and said hey before heading over to the section he was looking at. The records. Patrick didn't have a record player yet. He wasn't allowed so while he still looked and bought books on music and inconspicuous small things his father wouldn't notice his list of what he would one day buy grew longer and longer. 

"After anything in particular today, man?"

Patrick turned to face the shop keeper and the shopkeeper grinned at him, "You're in here a lot, but i haven't seen you buy anything."

"I'm not casing the joint out, i swear-"

"Chill man, I just meant to say, what are you into?"

Patrick burned bright red, "Oh my god that was embarrassing, I'm sorry."

Today really wasn't Patrick's day.

"Haha, don't worry about it man. Let me guess... strict parents?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Patrick replied quietly. 

"Well just wait, what are you in, Junior? Senior?"

"Senior," Patrick replied, "At St. Decades"

"Fancy," the guy laughed, "I'm William, but you can call me Bill, and I am the owner. Well, my brothers the owner but he's like never here so really I call the shots."

"Nice to meet you, Bill. I'm Patrick," Patrick said, his shoulders relaxed a bit and he smiled.

"Nice to meet you too, Dude. Anyway, what I was going to say before was that, you're a senior. You're going to be finished soon and then when you go to college, if you decided to go to college, you'll be free to listen to whatever you want."

Patrick smiled. No one had ever told him anything so relieving before. He secretly aimed to get into a college far far away from Chicago, which was partially why Patrick did try as hard as he did with his grade, his father’s pressure aside. If he was as far away as he could be he wouldn't have his father breathing down his neck.

"Thank you, I needed to hear that today," Patrick smiled.

"No prob, man. So did you know that we've bought the empty store next door and are planning to extend into musical instruments next year?"

Patrick's eyes brightened up the mention of instruments.

"No, but that's awesome! I really want a guitar..."

Patrick and Bill chatted for a further five minutes before Patrick's phone began ringing. Patrick pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.

"Mom. Crap, dude i better get this. But it was nice meeting and talking to you," Patrick said, before waving and exiting the store. He clicked answer and took a deep breath.

"Hi Mom, how's the car?"

"It's fine now Patrick, it just needed to be jump started, but honey where are you?"

"I'm at the mall, Mom, I told you I would be."

"Still? Honey your Dad gets home in half an hour, you better hurry back."

Patrick sucked in a breath, pulled his ear away from the phone for a brief moment to check the time.

"Ohh. Ok Mum, I'll get a cab right now."

"Ok, Honey. Please hurry."

Patrick sprinted down the stairs to the entrance taking two stairs at a time before he bolted out the front door and hailed a cab at the cab rank. The mustard coloured car pulled up in front of him and he jumped in the back.

"124 Everglade Heights, please. I'm running late."

Patrick clicked his seat belt in and stared out the window for the ride home. The Cabbie must have taken him seriously because without a word they sped through the streets until they were pulling up outside of Patrick's house probably a good ten minutes quicker than it should have taken. Patrick pulled out his wallet and looked to the front seat to pay the cabbie.

His breath hitched his throat.

The Barnes and Noble guys turned around, grinned at him and took his twenty. 

Patrick felt like he was going to throw up. He jumped for the door handle, yanked his bag and almost fell out of the cab in his hurry. He scrambled up the path to his house, unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind him. He dropped his bag, took a deep shaky breath and ran into the living room.

Heart pounding, Patrick peered through the net curtains in the living room but the cab had left.

Surely he had imagined that.

Surely!

Patrick shook his head hard and walked into the kitchen, hugging his Mom as she stood by the stove stirring some pasta.

"Hi baby, everything ok. You got home quickly."

Patrick let go of the hug and nodded, "Yeah Mom, had a good cab driver."

Well he wasn't lying.

"Ok, as long he didn't speed too much. Those people think just because they drive for a living that the road rules don't apply to them. Sometimes it just goes to their heads." 

"Yeah, true."

Patrick walked upstairs and got changed out of his school uniform. He walked over to the window and peered down at the street below. The quiet inconspicuous street where he had lived his entire life.

Still no cab there but he did see his Dad's car pull into the driveway.

Patrick sighed pressed a hand over his face.

He was officially going crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, hope you enjoyed. Please comment and tell me what you think?


	4. Basket Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Patrick and Pete make new friends and are introduced to new situations.

Patrick sat down at a lunch table, sighing heavily and looking around the cafeteria. It was a large high ceilinged room with white washed brick walls and murky white, speckled lino floor. One wall was entirely made of glass which included the door to the centre courtyard and admin office. Patrick was sitting as far back from the glass as he could along the wall where the doors and serving counter to the kitchen were situated. He didn’t think it would be that hard to make new friends at a new school but how did he initiate it? It was senior year, everyone seemed to have their groups and he wasn’t the most popular of people-

A skinny boy with cropped brown hair, wearing the school issued black dress shoes, dark grey trousers and white button down dropped into the seat across from him. He set down his tray, smiled and stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Tyler. We have English and Chemistry together.”

Patrick blinked hard before reaching forward and shaking Tyler’s.

“Hi, I’m Patrick.” 

“Yeah, I know, English and Chemistry remember,” Tyler laughed nervously like he was in exactly the same predicament Patrick had just been thinking upon, “So, Mr Trohman is cool, right. That speech he did just cut down Shane and Brent.”

Patrick smiled at the memory, “Yeah he's pretty cool.”

Patrick looked at Tyler only to see the the skinny dude was shovelling food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a month. He considering saying something but he really didn't want to be rude. It was none of his business anyhow-

“Sorry about that,” Tyler said, dropping his fork with a clatter and picking up his now empty tray, “I'm not actually a pig I just gotta somewhere to be, you wanna come with?”

“Uh..”Patrick stuttered, Tyler wanted to spend lunch with him? He was inviting him somewhere?

"Don't worry, it's only the music room. Mr Urie lets us in there each lunch to practice. My free periods usually after lunch so I take advantage of it.”

Patrick stood up to follow Tyler, his lunch tray abandoned for the offer of friendship and company other than himself.

They walked through the lawned courtyard and Patrick glanced up at the murky grey rain clouds that hovered over the school.

“So what do you play?”

“Uh…” Patrick tensed up, “I don't play anything yet.”

Tyler looked at Patrick expectantly, “sorry, didn't catch that.”

“I said I don't play anything yet,” said Patrick, his cheeks burning bright.

“Oh,” said Tyler, his cheeks beginning to match Patrick's, “I just assumed, I mean, I've seen you at the music store at the mall heap, I just thought-”

“It's ok, Tyler,” said Patrick, “you didn't know. I want to play guitar really bad it's just well…”

Tyler was hanging on Patrick's words. Patrick's took a look at him and swallowed before turning his head away and answering.

“My Dad won't let me.”

“Oh,” said Tyler as they approached the red brick single story building which served at the music rooms. Patrick assumed it was separate because it quite clearly wasn't sound proofed. He could hear the muted sound of drumming.

“Yeah.”

“Um… Why not, if you don't mind me asking,” Tyler asked quietly.

Patrick sighed and stopped at the door.

“My Dad won’t let me learn music,” Patrick admitted.

Tyler’s face went blank before recognition spread across his face.

“Ohhh, strict parents. Got it.”

“Well. No, not really. My Mom is fine. My Mom is amazing. And my Dad, well… he’s loving, you know, like he acts like you’d expect a proper father to act but… only if my grades are right? I’m going to become a doctor and he’s set on making sure nothing distracts me… I just wish that he’d let me play music though, I know I could keep my grades up-”

“Hey,” Tyler put his hand on Patricks shoulder, cutting off his stumbling confession, “Do you know what’s behind this door?”

Patrick hesitated, “The music room?”

Tyler swung the door open and dragged Patrick in behind him.

“Behind this door is music, my friend!”

Patrick stopped to take in the site ahead of him. The room was large and consisted of one large communal space with chairs and benches and three square glass cubicles along the far wall of the room. The floors were thickly carpeted. The walls were a baby blue colour. The roof, oddly enough, was painted black. It was almost like they’d attempted to create an enclosed studio mood before they realised it was gonna be cheaper to reuse the sickly baby blue paint they probably already had lying around in the caretakers shed.

The glass cubicles were obviously designed to be somewhat soundproofed but as Patrick had heard before their entrance, they didn’t seem to work very well.

Almost as if Tyler was on the same wave length, he pointed towards the cubicles. One contained a drum set and the responsible drummer who seemed to have paused as their entrance.

“They’re more designed to keep sound out of the cubicles, in case we record anything rather than keep sound in.”

Patrick nodded and blinked rapidly as a boy and a girl in school uniform jumped up and approached them. The girl had a bass strapped across her chest and the boy was sitting behind a keyboard.

“Hey Tyler, who’s this,” The bass girl was tall and curvy with long wavy ebony hair. She had ivory skin and was wearing the white school button up and a school skirt that Patrick was sure was several inches shorter than was allowed. She had large, bright eyes and smiled brightly. Patrick instantly smiled back.

“Hey Lindsey, this is Patrick. Patrick, this is Lindsey,” Lindsey smiled again and stuck out her hand to Patrick. Startled by the gesture that he often didn’t see amongst people his age. He grinned back and shook her hand. 

“And this dude here is Nick” Tyler said. Nick was a tall broad shouldered guy with a square face. He had dark eyes and dark brown hair in what could be considered the closest to flattering that a bowl cut could achieve. Nick smiled and nodded at Patrick.

“And that dude,” Patrick jumped at the drums started again viciously and Tyler laughed, “Is Chris.”

Chris was a short pudgy dude with longish messy light brown hair and a rounded face. He looked friendly from what Patrick could see because he was head banging in time with his drumming.

“I’ve never seen you in music before, Patrick,” Lynz said, “I think I have biology with you though.”

Patrick nodded, “Ah, yeah. I don’t take music. I wish I did though, more than anything.”

Lindsey looked like she was about to open her mouth to ask but stopped suddenly when Tyler shook his head quickly in her direction. She closed her mouth and cleared her throat. Patrick’s cheeks went bright red.

“So guys, Patrick is new to school this year so I thought he needed friends and well… we’re kinda awesome so…”

“Ha, welcome to the music nerds, dude,” Nick said quietly, laughing and shaking his head.

“Nick,” Lynz scolded.

“Well, he’s not exactly lying,” Tyler reasoned. We liked music and I don’t know about you but I’m a bit of a nerd sometimes.

“So am I,” Patrick said quietly and smiled. Tyler, Lynz and Nick smiled brightly at his comment.

“Well then, welcome,” Tyler exclaimed, “So you said you wanted to learn guitar, right? I could teach you a bit maybe, I mean I only play ukulele but how different could it be-”

“Tyler,” Lynz interrupted, “They are different, honey. It’s backwards to a guitar. Hey Patrick, I can teach you a few chords if you’d like?”

Patrick grinned and Lynz motioned him to follow her over to some massive double doors. Lynz pulled the doors open to reveal a dark walk in cupboard. She flicked the light switch and rather a small room was illuminated. It held a various amounts of instruments, mostly a heap of acoustic guitars. Patrick guessed that’s what a lot of people new to music started on…  
True to his guessing, Lynz picked out a guitar from its stand and handed it over to Patrick. Patrick picked up the instrument which was a dark hazel colour with a short wide neck compared to the guitars he’d seen in the magazines. It was a rudimentary beginner’s guitar, even Patrick could tell this. 

But Patrick was holding a guitar. 

Patrick was holding a guitar that he was going to be taught how to play!

Lynz walked back to the bench and Patrick followed her like a lost sheep. He sat quite close to her, held the guitar like he’d seen a million times before and quite unable to help himself, ran his fingers over the strings gently. 

“Ooh, that’s out of tune,” Lynz lifted the strap to her bass over her head and carefully leant the instrument against the bench.

She reached over and took the guitar out of Patrick’s hands. Patrick didn’t want to let go even though he knew Lynz was going to hand it right back. He controlled himself with the knowledge that he couldn’t learn how to play a guitar that was out of tune.

Lynz spent five or so minutes strumming, pausing to listen and then fiddling with the nobs on the head of the guitar. She finally handed it back with a sigh. Patrick gripped it tightly for a moment before relaxing his grip.

“Sorry, I’m still getting the hang myself of tuning purely by ear. I’ve been spoilt with an electric tuner for a while,” She admitted.

“You know literally more than I can even begin to understand so you don’t have to say sorry,” Patrick admitted, laughing lightly.

“True, I do have that advantage,” Lynz mused, “Ok, anyway. So I got to show you what bits are what on the guitar first before we can do anything else…”

Patrick listened intently as Lynz pointed out the head stock, machine head, tuning keys, the neck, the fret board, the pick guard and various other names that Patrick was sure he’d had to look up later just to refresh his memory. 

“So you’re not going to be able to do jack all yet until you callous your fingers up a bit,” Lynz admitted “And that’s gonna hurt but if you can just keep going you’ll get to the point one day where you won’t really feel it anymore.”

Tyler, who had spent the last five minutes ruffling through a pile of papers let a celebratory “Huzzah!” and handed over a printed copy of a diagram that looked like the strings of a guitar.

“This is a blues tab, my friend,” Tyler nodded, “This is still going to be really hard for you but also it’s the best way to start. Even I,with my terribly short fingers, am able to stretch them out a little using this.” 

“Thanks,” Patrick said, his chest tight. They were being so nice to him. He was being taught guitar! He couldn’t believe this.

“Of course, if your fingers are on par with mine you can always ditch that lumbering beast and be Uke buds with me,” Tyler exclaimed, before he began to furiously strumming out a tune on the tiny ukulele in his hands. Patrick laughed at Ty’s serious expression as he paced the room and continued to play.

Patrick looked down at the piece of paper he’d been handed. He was even sure where to begin.

“It’s upside down,” Lynz began to explain, “See the strings are E, A, D, G, B, and E.”

“Ok, so E, A, D, G, B, and E.”

Patrick smiled as he listened to Lynz explain. He couldn’t have had any better luck than when Tyler had decided to sit at his table at lunch today. The events of the past few days seemed to momentarily disappear from Patrick’s newly stimulated mind.

 

~~  
~~

 

Joe sighed as he looked in the mirror and ran a hand through his messy bushy hair. He was lucky it was long enough for him to tie back for his job because he really didn’t want to cut it. He untangled a knot with his fingers and went back to towelling it dry.

Pete sauntered casually into Joe’s room and Joe sighed before dropping the towel and wrapping it around his waist. They’d both seen each other’s junk more times than they cared to count so it didn’t mean anything much at all to each other, but if it could be avoided that was also awesome…

“It is called knocking, Pete,” Joe said casually, as he walked over to the walk in robe. It had large floor length mirrors for doors. He rummaged around for underwear, jeans and t shirt he liked. Today was his day off and he intended to get a feel again for the Chicago that he had once known so well.

“Can I come with you,” Pete whined, flopping down on Joes bed and rolling around until he’d burritoed himself in the comforter. Joe walked out of the closet, saw the eyes staring at him which were the only uncovered part of Pete and cracked up laughing.

“Fine, ok, as long as you behave.”

“Frankly, I’m insulted,” Pete gasped dramatically, “I am the pinnacle of model human behaviour.”

Joe grinned and fell onto the bed next to the Pete burrito as he pulled his jeans on.

“Keep saying that and one day it will be true,” Joe pulled the shirt over his head, “The power of positive thinking.”

“I thought you were an English teacher not a guidance counsellor,” Pete rolled off the bed with a thump. He kicked the comforter off him and jumped to his feet all in one dramatic move. As Pete straightened out his shirt, Joe pulled on his shoes and a jacket. He chucked a big black jacket in Pete’s direction.

“It’s cold out, humans will notice if you don’t rug up.”

Pete shrugged into the duffle coat and was following on Joe’s heels as they headed out the garage. 

“So… where are we going,” Pete asked as Joe swatted his feet down from the dash with one hand and held the steering wheel with the other.

“We’re going to get our next month supply of bags. We’ve gone through them very quickly but I’m not angry because I know that has been mostly on your part of trying to not kill as much.”

“I do try,” Pete replied quietly.

“And I said I’m not angry,” Joe said earnestly, “But I think I’ll bring you in and introduce you so if I’m busy at work or something you’re able to come in and get more ok?”

Pete’s eyes went wide.

“Are you feeling ok, Joe? Do you have a temperature?”

“No, man, stop,” Joe swatted Pete’s hand away from his forehead, “We don’t get sick you idiot.”

“I know that,” Pete said in a sing song voice, “I was just wondering what came over you to change your tune so completely. I’ve offered to pick up our supply several times and you basically hit the roof at the idea. Look, I know you don’t trust other-”

“You’re ready now,” Joe cut him off quickly, “I’ll introduce you, add you to the account. It’s easy sorted and you can be in charge of a bag supply.”

Pete was miraculously stunned into silence. Joe appreciated it while it lasted.

They travelled down a side street in the nearby industrial estate. Joe pulled into the back car park of an office building that was so clean and immaculate it looked completely out of place amongst the barbed wired fences and old tin shed factories that littered the area. Joe and Pete got out of the car and Joe clicked the lock.

“Stay behind me, stay quiet until I introduce you. These people don’t fuck around, ok.”

Pete nodded in understanding and stayed one step behind Joe, seeming to almost fade into the older man’s shadow.

Joe approached the door and tapped in a number on the keypad.

He turned to Pete, “membership number 25682. I’ll write it down for you later.”

The green light flashed and Pete stared up from behind Joe to see a small camera above the door swivel towards them and snap a photo. The door beeped and clicked. Joe reached out, turned the handle and the door swung open effortlessly.

The hallway in front of them was long, poorly lit and completely grey. The walls, the linoleum even the door frames. There were doors every three meters along the corridor. These doors were all just as grey as everything else except for the door handles which were round polished gold orbs.

Joe could feel the waves of confusion rolling off of Pete as they walked further down the hall, until he reached the specific door he was searching for. He turned the handle and instantly someone else pulled it open.

“Can I help you?”

“Joseph Trohman, 25682. Peter Wentz, 25682,” Joe replied, watching as the guard eyed Pete up.

“He’s new.”

“He’s been added to my account, Gabe said it would all be sorted?”

The guard looked down at his clipboard again but looking at them again and nodding. He stepped aside and Joe walked in, reaching back and grabbing Pete’s hand as to keep him by his side. When they approached a mirrored glass window, Joe let go of his hand.

“Just follow what I tell you, please,” Joe whispered. Pete nodded solemnly.

The glass window slid open and Joe watched as a tall broad shouldered man wearing jeans and a white t shirt lifted a large portable cooler onto the counter. He had a long, nicely chiselled face that always seemed to be on the edge of a smirk and dark hair in a manicured quiff. He grinned as he saw Joe and his eye lit up as he glimpsed Pete hiding behind him.

“Joe, my friend, you’ve finally brought your changeling with you for a trip, It’s a pleasure…. Peter, right?”

Joe watched as Pete reached out, smiled and shook Gabe’s hand, “You can call me Pete.”

“Sure thing, man, bout time your sire bought you round.”

Joe frowned at Gabe, “Gabe, I’ve told you a billion times before Pete is my brother, I don’t go with that old fashioned crap-”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Old habits die hard. I forgot you’re all new aged and crap. You know that speak died out around five years ago. All this fifty shades of gray crap has brought back the elite titles into fashion. Shit, If I tried to refer to Victoria as anything other than my sire, she slap me from here until next Tuesday.”

Gabe chuckled to himself as he tapped something onto an iPad, “So, here to learn the reigns, Pete?”

Pete nodded eagerly and Joe couldn’t help but smile.

“Ok, well basically here's the deal. You ring up about a week of ahead of time and say how many bags you’re probably going to need and then add some just in case. We give you a date to pop in and grab your order. You tap in your code at the front door, you go to the door number we send you on the invoice the day before and you sign for collection, pretty simple,” Gabe handed the iPad and a stylus over to Pete. Pete looked at Joe expectantly and Joe nodded his head. With a flourish Pete has squiggled his name on the dotted line.

“We send out accounts monthly and the invoice contains a number to call if you have problems,” Gabe grinned as Pete handed back the iPad, “Any questions?”

“Yeah, what if we need bags quicker than a week… say we have an emergency or something?”

Gabe blinked twice, silent for a moment, “That’s actually a really good question, my new friend. The price goes up but we can fast track orders within reason. We also have a drop in centre at the very end of the hall for immediate need. The options are immediate payment or to be billed with your next invoice. We try to discourage regular use of the drop in centre it’s not meant to be a social club. It’s only if you need it.”

Joe watched as Pete nodded and Gabe handed him the cooler. 

“Well you’re all set to go, boys. It was nice meeting you Pete. Keep Joe in check for me, will you? Haha, bye!”

Joe could never leave Gabe’s presence without a smirk and could see Pete would be the same. As they climbed into the car Pete babbled incessantly.

“He is so nice and cool and did you see his hair, oh my god-”

“Pete,” Joe interrupted quietly, Pete went silent instantly “Gabe is awesome but he is also a very powerful man who when wronged will be very ruthless and cold. He’s nice if you’re on his good side and he does not handle charity cases well so make sure you always pay your bills.”

Joe’s eyes were on the road but he could feel Pete’s stare burning into his cheek.

“I thought we share an account, why would I have to worry about-”

“If I’m not around one day-”

Pete smacked a hand on the dashboard and Joe cringed internally.

“What do you mean ‘not around one day’, Joe, we’re immortals! That’s not going to be an issue… is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” Joe insisted, sighing as he finally pulled into their driveway. He cut the engine and they both sat in silence, “It’s just this world is huge, and fucked up and just, you can never know? Is it so bad that I want there to be some sort of contingency plan in place in case something ever happens to me and you have to survive on your own?”

“I don’t want to survive on my own,” Pete said quietly, “We’re spending the rest of eternity together. That’s what you promised me when you’re turned me…”

Joe sighed as he got out of the car. He walked around to Pete’s side and pulled the door open. Pete stood up slowly and closed the door behind him. Joe paused for a moment before he pulled Pete into a rock solid embrace. He held the shorter man to him and gentle stroked the back of his head as he felt the waves of panic began to dissipate from the touch.

“Pete, you are my only family. I love you and I am never ever going to leave you. But I am also never going to leave you without help or plans if by some crazy chance something bad were to ever happen to me. I never want to leave you. Don’t ever think that ok. You’re my little brother. My family. But that means I will always look out for you, no matter what.”

Joe felt Pete take a deep breath into Joe’s chest and nod quickly.

“I know it’s not pleasant, but it’s never a bad idea to have emergency plans, do you understand,” Joe felt like he was talking to a small boy, from a long time ago, a different time… 

Pete nodded and looked up at Joe from the embrace.

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” he said earnestly. He let go of Joe and helped Joe lift the cooler into the kitchen.

“You handled it a lot better than I thought you would,” Joe admitted, “Purely because Gabe is hard to predict sometimes but he seems to really like you, which is convenient, I guess.”

Joe didn’t really believe his own words. He honestly didn’t trust Gabe, though Gabe had never given him a reason not too… But rumours and gut instinct combined could be compelling.

Pete gave a small smile like he could hear exactly what Joe was thinking. Truth be told, Pete never got to meet many of their kind and Joe knew he tended to get a little excited when he did. Their kind either gathered in pairs or small covens. They didn’t like to interact with anyone outside their own group and that was why everything was always tense at the pickup spot. So many immortals in such near vicinity made the air vibrate with challenge. It was like chucking a pair of wild animals in a room together and expecting them not to get territorial or defensive.

Joe stashed away the bags in their usual storage spot and listened as Pete turned on the shower upstairs. He planned for Pete. He did everything for Pete. Pete was the only family he had left anymore…

Joe sighed as the image of the little boy sprung into his head again. He needed to go to bed.

 

~~

~~

 

Patrick woke up in his bed, drenched in sweat. What the hell had that dream been about?

_He was driving through the darkness with an unnamed figure next to him. All he could see was the small patch of the road that the headlights illuminated. No street lamps. No houses. No nothing except road and trees.  
And he was hungry. So very hungry. He was almost there. He knew where they were and he was going to finally close in…_

Patrick shook his head and climbed out of his bed, his tattered navy blue t shirt sticking to his back. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and considered his feet on the carpet as his eyes adjusted to the darkness-

It was still night time.

Patrick reached over and clicked a button on his phone, the screen lit up like a solar flair and Patrick squinted for what felt like a whole minute before he read the time.

It was 1:43am.

Patrick groaned, pulled the comforter back over the top of the bed and rolled on top of it. He didn’t need to sleep in all his sweat again. He rolled over the incredibly soft top of the comforter and marvelled in the different sensation. Now, much cooler and less constrained, Patrick figured maybe he could attempt to go back to sleep. 

Except now he was thirsty AND needed to Pee.

Patrick headed to the bathroom and then quietly downstairs afterwards. He thought of the juice in the fridge but knew the sugar would probably keep him wide awake. He grabbed a glass tumbler from the closet and turned the faucet on. The cool sound of the glass filling up almost lulled Patrick into closing his eyes again. He was so unbelievably tired… but he forced his eyes open again and took a big sip of water only to almost spit it out as a strange scratching sound come from the vicinity of the front door. 

Patrick paused and just stared in the direction of the shadowy and dark front door. Not daring to move but knowing that he couldn’t stay where he was. He waited in baited silence for another noise.

“Mrow!”

Patrick’s breath left his chest in one quick successive sigh of relief. It was just his Mom’s cat Maisy scratching at the front door. Her cat door had probably become jammed again. He’d have to mention it to Dad… 

As Patrick opened the door he leant down to run a hand through the fur of the little tabby cat that slinked its way in the door.

Maisy was a very long and thin creature and about three years old. She had mostly even tabby stripes until you came to her face which looked rather like she’d dunked her nose in white paint. She was a wispy, affectionate animal that paused around Patrick’s legs to rub herself against him and get a scratch behind the ears.

“Hey girly, your door get jammed again?”

Patrick leant down and attempted to push the flap. Yep, jammed just as he thought. He stood up just as the quiet sound of footsteps met his ears. He looked up and saw a short dark figure he couldn’t quite make out walking up the driveway, keeping to the shadows.

Patrick’s heart pounded so hard he thought for a moment he might be having a heart attack. He quickly jumped back and closed the door firmly, latching and dead bolting it to make extra sure. He couldn’t move. If he went back upstairs who was to say they wouldn’t get in and come upstairs. Who would be watching to check if they did? Patrick slipped down to the floor against the wall and stretched his legs out directly in front of the door. If the door opened now Patrick’s leg would stop it enough for Patrick to reach and slam it shut… not that the person could get through deadbolts or anything… Patrick hoped.

Patrick tried to even out his breathing, he was breathing too loud. He was a dead give way.

There was the briefest of taps on the front door, just enough for Patrick to hear.

“Hey, it’s really late man y-you should go home,” Patrick stuttered out, barely above a whisper.

There was a brief moment of silence before the cat flap opened and Patrick had to back a yell as a dark sleeved arm reached through and placed a medium sized box by Patrick’s leg.

“Sorry about the other day, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just wanted to talk,” a poetic male voice replied quietly.

Patrick was holding his breath so hard he was beginning to see stars in his peripheral vision.

The arm patted the box and then disappeared.

“Goodnight.”

Patrick took a shaky breath as he heard the sound of footsteps disappearing. His eyes found the box by his leg and he could nothing but stare at it. Oh my god, what was in the box? It was probably mutilated body parts for all Patrick knew. Oh my god, the guy was a serial killer obsessed with Patrick and was giving him gifts of mutilated victims in some sort of morbid death courtship.

Patrick’s hands shook as he, against his better will, unwrapped the box. He ever so slowly lifted up the cardboard flaps, no bad smells which was a good sign so far, and looked inside.

A sparkly new iPod.

Patrick stared at the white box in his hand and his head spun a little. These particular ones were worth like three hundred bucks, if Patrick remembered correctly. 

Oh my god. Patrick’s stalker had bought him a freaking iPod.

So Patrick’s stalker wasn’t gifting him mutilated body parts (yet) but instead expensive electronics to replace the one’s he caused Patrick to break in fright the other day….

Ok, at the least guy was considerate-

“What the hell are you thinking, Patrick” He whispered angrily at himself, “This guy literally stalked you!”

Patrick carried the box to the kitchen counter and set it down as he went back to his glass of water. He took shaky sips from suddenly parched lips and dumped his glass in the sink before picking the box back up. Patrick stood there, looking over the box for another minute before he decided that he didn’t think there were any hidden surprises left in there.

When Patrick reached his bedroom, he quietly shut the door behind him and rushed over to his desk. He reached around the back of his desktop hard drive box and very gentle pried off the back panel. He pulled the iPod and it’s accessories of the box and stashed the new contents in amongst the hidden confines of the guts of the computer. He carefully placed the back panel back onto the computer and congratulated himself on the perfect hiding spot for the forbidden gift.

Patrick sat back on his bed, still holding the box and ran a finger over the box before flipping it over. On the back was a scribbled phone number and a short sentence.

**_‘text me if you want – Pete’._ **

“Pete?”

Patrick tried to wrack his brains to know if he’d ever heard of someone called Pete but he couldn’t think of a single person. I mean, Patrick knew Pete’s face but maybe he’d drastically changed his appearance and Patrick had met him when he was younger and different? Patrick had to have met him before Barnes and Noble. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he had.

Patrick climbed back into bed, feeling even less ready for sleep than he’d ever been in his life despite his exhaustion. He pulled out his phone, tapped in Pete’s number and saved the contact.

Patrick stared at the bright light of the screen for ages it seemed before he caught himself nodding off.

 _“Have we ever met before Barnes and Noble,_ ” Patrick texted despite every shred of common sense in him screaming at him to not fucking engage with a creepy stalker dude.

Patrick was asleep before any reply came through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seasons Greetings to everyone! 
> 
> I wasn't going to post a new chapter until I'd written more on the end of the story but I decided you guys deserve a gift so here it is :)
> 
> Please comment and tell me your favourite part of the chapter! Mine is Pete Burrito :D


	5. Pulling Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has a migraine  
> Pete is hungry
> 
> *Warning for mild violence/gore*

 

 

Patrick’s alarm rang shrilly and he slapped it violently as he tried to lift his head.

He hissed sharply as pain shot through the top left corner of his head. He groaned, determined to get up to relieve his heavy bladder. He pulled himself out of bed and made it all the way to the bathroom with his throbbing head before he promptly threw up in the toilet bowl.

Patrick’s Mom had obviously heard the retching sounds and came bounding up the stairs. She knocked hard at the bathroom door.

“Patrick, are you ok, it sounds like you’re being sick in there!”

“That’s because I am,” Patrick grunted out miserably.

He heard the click of the door opening and his mother stepped into the bathroom.

“Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong, stomach flu?”

Patrick tried to lift his searing head only for another ride of lightening to hit.

“No, migraine,” he gritted out.

“Oh dear, come on then, get up and flush twice and we’ll get you some Tylenol for your head. I’ll grab you water and some tea as well. Make sure you close your blinds, and just climb straight back into bed, that’s it.”

Patrick panted and sighed as he rolled back onto his knees. He tried to move his head and hold his breath to ease the pounding but it only seemed to work for a few seconds at a time, during which he could still acutely feel physical throbbing of the veins in his ears.

Where the hell did this come from?  


Patrick’s Mom walked back in with a full bottle of water, some Tylenol and a steaming cup of green tea.

“Take these and drink up, baby. I’ll call the school and your father.”

Patrick’s head seemed to pound particularly hard at that. Patrick would take a sick day and his father probably wouldn’t let him forget about it for a couple of weeks.

After he downed the Tylenol and taken a few sips of his tea, Patrick rolled back over onto the bed and out of pure reflex habit opened his phone. He slammed his eyes shut at the light and pain in his head but not before seeing that Pete had replied to his text. He couldn’t see what the reply was yet, his head hurt too much. Even the temptation of answers was nothing compared to the pain searing through Patrick’s head.

Part of Patricks mind, detached completely from the current physical pain was screaming at him to read the reply. You need to know! You need to make sense! You’ve been freaking out over this for a while now and you finally have a chance for answers! Maybe he wasn’t a killer and there was a perfectly good reason behind all his creepy behaviour, not that anything could excuse It…

While Patrick tried to continuing musing, the Tylenol began to kick in and Patrick drifted off back to sleep.

~

When Patrick turned over approximately four hours later his head felt several tonnes lighter. He still had a pounding headache but it wasn’t a migraine. He reached for his glasses and pulled them on. The room took a moment longer to come into focus but he breathed out a small sigh of relief at the simple ability to see. The curtains were still drawn but the room was very nearly lit by the bright patches of sunlight there filtered through the gaps. Patrick pulled himself into a sitting position and gazed around his room as he the head rush passed. His felt clammy again and he pulled himself out from under the covers. He hung his head low as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was going to need a few more minutes before he could think of standing up.

His phone buzzed on the side table.

Patrick picked it up, unlocked it and tapped on the new text message. He read the contact name, ‘Pete’ and it took him exactly ten seconds of confusion before it all came crashing back to him in one fair swoop.

“Fuck.”

Patrick hastily opened the message… or messages, should he say? He resisted the urge to read the latest ones and scrolled down the beginning. He remembered sending the text last night wanting to know if they had ever met before the bookshop...

Patrick read the first message.

_“Not that I know of, I would remember a pretty face like yours.”_

Patricks cheeks burned red, was this guy flirting with him?

_“I just thought I should let you know that I didn’t steal that iPod. I actually bought it with my own money so like don’t feel morally guilty or anything. It’s all for you… and sorry once again about your Walkman.”_

_“Why does a seventeen year old dude in 2015 have a Walkman? They died out over ten years ago.”_

_“Ok, yeah you’re probably sleeping but like I want to say I’m super sorry for scaring you all those times I promise you I’m not like casing you out as my victim or anything.”_

Well that was reassuring.

_“I understand if you want to ignore me but like you should know I’m not stalking you or anything for any bad reason I just saw you the first day and I can’t get you out of my brain.”_

This was too much. Patrick placed his phone back on the side table, head spinning and not from the headache. He rolled onto his back and spread eagle out as he stared at the ceiling.

“This guy is fucking crazy. He’s obsessed and he’s crazy and I don’t need this shit.”

“Patrick, you awake?”

Patrick climbed back underneath the covers as his Mom knocked at his bedroom door.

“Come in, Mom.”

Patricia Stump entered carrying a place of toast and another cup of tea. Patrick sat up and gratefully took the food.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry or not so I just made some toast. Easy on the tummy,” Patricia smiled as she scooted Patrick over and sat on the bed with him. She ran a hand through his hair and smiled, “You should have a shower, baby. You’ll feel better.”

Patrick nodded and took a bite of his toast. He smiled when he tasted the Nutella.

“Thanks Mom,” Patrick said as his Mom stood up and turned to the door, “I love you.”

His Mom paused for a moment and turned back him, smiling “I love you too, Patty.”

Patrick hurriedly finished his toast and tea before pulling himself out of bed, grabbed his phone and towel and headed across the hall to the bathroom.

Patrick stripped off down to his underwear before turning on the water. He turned back to the mirror. He had dark bags underneath his eyes and the whites of his eyes were mildly bloodshot. His skin was paler than usual but Patrick knew it was because of the headache. He poked at a spot on his face before he heard his phone buzz. He jumped suddenly and turned to look at the screen.

“Do you like your new iPod?”

Patrick huffed angrily and clicked his phone shut, placing it inside the medicine cabinet, stripping completely and stepping into the shower. He turned the pressure up high and stood so the nape of his neck was getting the hardest massage. The hot water rolling down his back made the muscles in Patrick’s shoulders and back slowly begin to unknot and relief rolled through his body. After five minutes or he could feel only a dull ghost of the headache before. Patrick grabbed the shampoo and hung his head under the water, listening in to the all too loud pumping of blood through his head.

After Patrick had finished showering he got dressed and pulled the iPod out of its hiding spot. It was thin, sleek and with a bright blue back on it. Patrick looked back the information in the booklet and googled the model.

“Four hundred fucking dollars,” Patrick hissed. Taking his hand away from the box suddenly and fixing it with a wide eyed stare, “Four hundred dollars.”

Oh my god, why did Patrick had to not only a stalker but a fucking rich stalker that fucking bought him presents that he definitely did not ask for. Why him. Why him?

Patrick clenched his fists together and took a deep breath. He picked up his phone and opened the messenger app. He knew this was a long shot but he tapped out a message and hit send.

“Please leave me alone.”

It was probably useless but Patrick knew he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

Then why did it feel like this was only just the beginning?

 

~~

~~

Joe woke to the sound of the front door opening and closing. Pete had returned from whatever he had been doing for the last week. He disappeared at night, which wasn’t unusual at all they were wired nocturnally but Joe had adjusted his sleep pattern in preparation for a day job… but Pete had stopped returning fully fed. Joe could tell when Pete had fed. It was aura that vibrated through their connection that Pete was a live wire. When he came back full he was at full strength and his senses were almost parallel to nothing. He was like a bright flame that Joe could feel the heat from through the floor.

What was Pete doing if he wasn’t feeding?

Joe climbed out of bed and in a second was leaning against the kitchen bench as Pete pulled milk out of the fridge and drank straight from the carton.

“What have you been up to, Pete?”

Pete spluttered into the carton and coughed hard. He wiped his mouth as he placed on the counter.

“The fuck, Troe? Sneak up on a guy like that.”

“You would have heard me coming if you were fully fed,” Joe was suddenly an inch away from Pete, he lifted up a thumb and ran it over the bags under Pete’s eyes. He skin was paler than usual.

“Dude, I have fed-”

“You’re hungry,” Joe stated calmly, “Why haven’t you been hunting?”

Pete’s eyes fluttered to the ground and he took a deep breath.

“I… can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“Nothing smells appealing to me,” Pete admitted.

What the fu-

“Pete, you need to tell me what’s going on right now,” Joe said, his hand still on Pete’s face. Pete looked up into Joes eyes. Worry. Fear.

“He smells really good, Joe, I don’t know why but with every passing day I get less and less interested in feeding, I-”

“Siren song,” Joe said in realisation.

“What’s that,” Pete questioned, his eyes furrowed in suspicion.

“His blood smells so good to you can bare to think of the thought of feeding on anyone else but him. It’s driving you crazy though because you can’t bear the thought of killing him though.”

Pete’s eyes were crazed, “What do I do, Joe, what do I do. How did you know? What do I do?”

“Hey,” Joe pulled Pete against his chest and tried to excrete calm over the younger immortal like a blanket, “First of all you need to feed no matter how uninterested you may be. We’re going to have to force you.”

Pete nodded and walked over to the stash of the blood bags.

“No, Pete, that’s not gonna cut it. You’re too weak already,” Joe motioned to the garage door.

Pete blinked, “Joe you can’t be serious. You haven’t hunted in-”

“Get in the car, I’ll be down in five.”

Pete nodded and Joe shot upstairs.

Joe went to his wardrobe, chucked on jeans and a hoodie and stuffed a work outfit into a duffle bag. He was in the car by Pete five seconds later. He chucked the duffle bag on the back seat. Pete raised an eyebrow.

“It’s late, by the time we finish I’ll have to get to work.”

“You’re going to go to work after a feed,” Pete questioned, “Are you sure that’s a good idea, I mean you do work with children.”

“I work with teenagers and at least I won’t be hungry,” Joe reasoned, “I’ll survive. You need this.”

They drove in silence for an hour. They pulled into a car park along a bustling 24 hour strip mall that fronted the nightlife district.

Joe got of the car and took the hair tie out of his hair, letting his hair spring forward and somewhat hide his face. Pete followed suit by pulling his hood up over his face. Joe walked around the back of an alleyway of a supermarket until they reached the fire escape. He was standing on the roof of the supermarket in two seconds. He waited patiently while it took Pete six seconds to climb up the ladder.

When they were at the top, the two brothers walked side by side until they had almost reached the nightclub that was serenading with a heavy dirty bass that seemed to vibrate through your very being. Before they reached the edge of the roof, Pete stopped in his tracks. Joe walked forward a few more steps before he realised Pete had stopped and turned to him.

“Come on, Pete.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just…” Pete blinked hard, “You worked so hard, Joe. You worked so hard for me and now you’re going to just throw it away?”

Joe sighed and spoke words he hadn’t uttered in over thirty years, “Pete, I am your Sire. I turned you and no matter how much we try to move on from that I have a duty to care for you until such a time you feel you don’t want me anymore.”

“I’m never not going to want you around, Joe. You’re not just my sire, that’s why we call each other brothers,” Pete said quickly, He didn’t like Joe to talk like that, “I’ll only agree to this if you think you can stop again afterwards.”

“I have gone longer between live feeding before, Pete,” Joe said sternly, “I’m going to be fine, it won’t be that hard for me.”

Pete nodded and the two immortals crouched on the roof near the alley in wait.

~

It was the hunter being hunted. Joe followed on the ground behind the predator who was following a young woman leaving the nightclub. She headed down the empty street at a fast pace, no idiot to the fact that the sooner she got off the street the better. But she hadn’t quite realised the danger she’d been conditioned to expect her whole life was actually following her tonight. She wore a little black dress in a slinky material that sat three inches above her knees and made her long blonde bobbed hair and dark cherry lipstick stand out like a neon sign. Her heavy lidded eyes widened in surprise as she turned a corner and ran smack bang into Pete. He grinned and held up a cigarette.

“Sorry, to bother you. Do you have a light?”

The woman blinked and, following the ingrained instinct of politeness until you could exit, pulled a lighter out of her bag and went to hand it to Pete. Pete grabbed her hand, swung her around and pressed her hard against the wall behind her. Before she had a chance to make any noise Pete had locked eyes with her and she suddenly went silent. Pete’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at him obediently. His face slowly spread into a grin and with her conscious will frozen inside her the woman’s face slowly slid in a matching expression.

“I’m sorry about this, Baby,” Pete said, placing a hand on the wall behind her head and leaning in to whisper into her ear, “But there was a guy following you with no so nice intentions, so I had to distract you enough so my brother could take care of him. I’m gonna step away from you in a moment and you’re just going to keep walking like nothing ever happened. You’re going to go bed and in the morning you’re going to remember an uneventful walk home, ok baby.”

Joes listened the velvet words come purring from Pete’s mouth as he grabbed the guy in question by the throat. He pulled him into the alley between two dark empty shops and smacked him hard against the wall. The guy yelped and the hands clutching at his throat moved to grab at the back of his head. His eyes were scrunched up and Joe breathed deeply as tears sprung to the guy’s eyes.

“You shouldn’t follow woman around, it is not an attractive look,” Joe hissed in his ear, and with a quick flick of the hand and a loud snap the pounding heart beat faded away into nothing.

“Ok, Pete,” Joe whispered.

Ten metres away, Pete stepped away from the woman and disappeared into the shadows as the disorientated woman began her walk home from where she left it.

Pete watched her for another three seconds before he turned around. The knowledge of food, even if his brain was telling him not to eat, made him jittery enough that he doubled his speed as he arrived at Joe’s side.

Joe was still holding the body by its throat but as soon as Pete arrived he wrapped his arms around the deceased’s shoulder and sunk his teeth into the jugular. Pete breathed in sharply as the scent of the blood hit his senses. There was a war going on inside him. He knew that physically his body ached for food but his brain still screamed the opposite. Joe drank deeply for three more seconds before, with a heavy snarl, he ripped his mouth away.  


Joe whole being was buzzed, his gaze flicked a million different ways. His ears pricked up from any nearby noise.

His instincts drew him back to Pete and they screamed ‘Nurture!’

Joe reached out with a free hand pulled Pete in until the body was pressed tight in between them. The deceased’s head slumped to the side, leaning on Joe’s shoulder, leaving easy access for Pete. Pete stared down at the blood, his whole body shivering but still his fangs stayed put.

“Drink,” Joe demanded. Pete clenched his eyes closed but didn’t move.

Joe sighed and reached up towards Pete’s neck, found the two little spots forever scarred by Joe’s fangs and in a split second he dug two sharp nails into the skin. Pete cried out harshly which turned into a snarly hissing noise. His eyes grew completely red and his fangs sprang out from his gums.

“Drink,” Joe, nails still dug into Pete’s neck directed Pete down to the deceased’s neck. Pete groaned before biting down hard and beginning to drink greedily. Joe’s whole being relaxed as he felt almost like he was going to start purring or some stupid shit like that. He watched colour return to Pete’s neck. Pete had almost finished completely draining the deceased. When Joe was sure that Pete was almost finished and still tightly latched on he withdrew his nails and reached over to lick clean the wounds on Pete’s neck as he finished drinking. Within a second the wounds had completely healed back to their permanent scarred state and Joe watched as the last of the blood was drained from the victim. The warmth and buzz of his own taste still zinging like electricity through his being.

Pete dropped the body to the ground and sighed out loud as he licked his lips clean. He looked over at Joe and within a second had him arms wrapped tightly around the elder immortals torso.

Joe patted the back of Patrick’s head like he was a small child.

“Feel better?”

Pete nodded and pulled away, “Suppose we should get rid of the body then.”

Joe glared down at deceased, “should put him somewhere for the maggots but then again that sort of thinking is what causes bodies to be found again and we don’t need that.”

Pete nodded and went to pick up the body again.

“No, wait,” said Joe, “I need the car for work. Call this one in instead.”

Pete blinked and opened his phone, “Are you sure, that’s expensive-”

Joe nodded, “this weeks salary should cover it… it’s not like I actually need to have this job.”

Pete nodded and they waited an hour, keeping the body hidden from any passing humans until the contact turned up in a van.

Joe handed over his account details to the driver with a nod. Pete and he returned back to the car.

“You drive,” Joe chucked the keys to Pete, grabbed his duffle bag out of the boot and climbed into the back seat. Pete pulled out of the car park at top speed.

By the time the sun has peaked from behind the hills Joe and Pete were almost home. Joe was changed into his work clothes and sitting in the front passengers seat again. The duffle bag with his hunting clothes stashed in a hidden compartment underneath the black leather seats.

“Why does the drive back always take longer,” Pete complained as they turned onto their street. Speaking the first words either of them had heard in an hour.

“Just the way of the universe,” Joe replied quietly. Glancing up to appraise Pete’s condition. He was looked back to normal colour but just to be sure-

Pete’s arm shot up and barred the lightning fast punch Joe had thrown at the side of his face. Joe’s fist practically bounced off Pete’s arm and Pete didn’t even swerve the car at all. He calmly pulled into their garage and slowly slung his head around to glare at Joe.

“I realise that was you testing me, dude, but that was a dick move.”

Joe stared back at Pete for second before he grinned and started giggling. Pete’s face twisted hard as he tried desperately to keep his composure but he was soon defeated. He giggling alongside Joe.

“Thank you, I feel almost back to normal again.”

They were still sitting in the car in the pitch black of the garage. Pete clicked the remote to turn the lights on.

“I might have to do that for you again soon if you can’t figure out how to deal with this siren song. Who did you say it was again?”

“…”

“Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand mumbling.”

“I said,” Pete huffed slowly, “It’s a seventeen year old boy.”

Joe’s eyes went wide, “What the fuck, Pete.”

“I can’t help it! You said that yourself that I have no control over it!”

Joe sighed, “Yeah I know, just… try not to kill him I think. Like I know you said you felt like you couldn’t but one of your instincts is gonna win out in the end. The kids got his whole life ahead of him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Pete said, rubbing at his neck irritably.

Guilt washed over Joe.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” Pete said suddenly and viciously, “What was that?”

“A little sire trick I had used on me in my early days,” Joe said bitterly as he watched Pete’s eyes grow wide. Joe never talked about his Sire or early days in fact he was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever spoken about it in front of Pete ever.

Pete watched Joe tentatively. Joe knew he was waiting for him to reveal something else… anything else… but Joe had said more than he ever intended to. He hated himself for using that trick on Pete but he was not about to reveal anything to him.

“The less you know, the better,” Joe said quietly, as he pulled the car door open and shut down the topic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Here is Chapter 5. I hope you like it. Once again, please comment your favorite part.


	6. Emenius Sleepus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick tells Joe his troubles
> 
> Joe discovers a secret and calls an old friend

Patrick’s Mom must have seen how tired Patrick was when he came down the next day, dressed for school but with an expression that clearly said he hadn’t left his bed.

As Patrick chewed slowly on his toast, his Mom dropped the keys to the Sedan in front of him.

“Take the car today, baby. I plan on staying home. I have to clean the floors and your father mentioned something about a plumber coming to look at the downstairs bathroom.”

Patrick straightened up and grinned at his mother. He shoved the last bit of toast in his mouth, before getting up quickly and heading towards the door.

“Baby, you don’t need to leave for another hour,” His Mom called as he opened the front door.

“Got some stuff to do before school,” He called as a parting and headed to the car.

Patrick pulled into the school carpark an entire hour earlier than usual. There was two cars there that he knew to be the receptionist and PE teacher and a third he didn’t recognise… but he did recognise it was a black 1969 Camaro. He knew this because Tyler was kind of obsessed with this car model and had showed him seventeen different photos of the car out of the three hundred he had saved on his phone.

And Patrick thought he was obsessed with guitars.

But as Patrick discovered when he walked past the front of the car, it wasn’t just a run of the mill Camaro. This one had a custom painted symbol in white on the bonnet that sort of could only be described bat wings or a mutated version of batman.

Patrick took a moment to admire the car before realised with horror that someone was still sitting in the car in question.

“Good Morning, Patrick,” Mr Trohman called as he climbed out the other side of the car that seconds ago Patrick had assumed was empty.

“Oh, hey, good morning, uhhh…”

“Admiring the car? It’s actually my brothers. He let me borrow it today for a change. Do you know much about cars?”

“Not really,” Patrick admitted, “Not my thing.”

Mr Trohman grinned and Patrick couldn’t help but reciprocate it, “I’m going to admit something to you that you can’t tell anyone….”

Patrick blinked and leaned closer to Joe.

“I know nothing about cars either and I’m just as interested you, haha. However I do know that this car is nice. Its drives like a dream. Best car I’ve ever driven and I’ve driven a few.”

Patrick grinned, “Well for tell your brother he has good taste then.”

“I often do,” Joe replied, “Now what are you doing here so early? You might be the first student here.”

“I was gonna see if I could use the music room to practice guitar,” Patrick spoke quickly before panic bubbled up in his chest, “But you can’t tell anyone!”

Joe stared at him for a second.

“Ok, why not-”

“Please just tell me you won’t,” Patrick pleaded, his heart thumping so loudly he was sure it was about to jump out of his chest.

“Hey, Hey,” Joe said, placing a firm hand on Patrick’s shoulder, “Hey, please take a deep breath for me. Ok? Feel it in your gut and let out it out very slowly. Good. Ok and again?”

Patrick breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again Joe was gazing at him concerned.

“Ok, so come with me, Patrick,” Joe said. Patrick complied without question. They walked all the way across the empty school and Patrick shuddered internally at the creepy ghost town feel that just rolled off the empty red brick buildings. They turned a corner and Patrick realised where they were heading. Joe reached in his pocket and pulled out a big set of keys.

“Bren- Mr Urie gave me a spare set of keys to the music building because I’ve helped him in a couple of his classes before,” Joe answered Patrick’s unasked question.

Once the room was unlocked Patrick instantly went over to the instrument closet and picked out the acoustic Lynz had been teaching him on. Joe followed him and picked up a sleek looking acoustic with an electric jack on it. He plugged in the beautiful instrument and took a seat next to Patrick on the benches.

Patrick watched as Joe began to strum a few chords. Patrick recognised two chords. There was E minor and the C chord. He was struggling a little with the C chord but Patrick could play E minor perfectly fine.

“What can you play,” Joe paused after a minute.

“Um, I am just beginning to learn guitar. It’s hard though because I can’t practice at home and I can only do this during lunch time.”

Joe sighed.

“Patrick, you know I will keep anything you say confidential. If you need to talk about something…”

“My Dad won’t let me take music or learn an instrument because it’s a distraction from my studies.”

“Well, that’s ridi-”

“I know, I know,” Patrick said, “Trust me I’ve tried to convince him. I’ve read a million studies. I have showed these studies to him. My guidance counsellors keep telling him that it’ll be therapeutic and probably help my studies to have a subject I enjoy and can have fun with but he is set like concrete.”

Joe frowned, “That sounds like something else is going on there, Patrick. I’ll be honest with you.

“Yeah,” Said Patrick, “But Dad is sealed up like a clam. I feel like sometimes he’s a robot. You know? ‘How are your grades, son.’ ‘Keep your head in the game, kiddo.’ But nothing like maybe asking me whether I have any dreams or aspirations. Do I really exists to him as a person or am I just… a wax figurine that he wants to mould to his ideals. Argh, I don’t know though.”

Patrick took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. His chest felt lighter than it had in a while.

“He’s never physically punished you has he,” Joe asked quietly. Patrick’s eyes went wide.

“Not since I was a little kid, no. I think my Mom would leave him, to be honest.”

“What does your Mom think of all this,” Joe asked crossing his legs up on the bench.

“I don’t know,” Patrick confessed, “She doesn’t ever talk about it, just encourages me normally like ‘don’t forget to do your homework’ and ‘good luck with your test’. Sometimes she makes little comments that makes me think she doesn’t really approve of my Dad’s methods. Sometimes I think she’s afraid of him though I’ve never seen him hit her or anything in my life.”

Joe didn’t have a reply and Patrick just ran his fingers quietly over the strings.

“Are you happy, Patrick?”

Patrick shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Joe looked hard in thought. Patrick hoped he wasn’t going to run to his parents and tell them everything in a vain kind hearted attempt at making them listen. It had happened before and that was why Patrick had been ripped away from his old friends and old life.

He thought suddenly of Josh and his heart ached.

“I came to this school for my final year because my guidance counsellor blabbed everything to my parents about what I’d said. My Father got pissed and ripped me away from my best friends Josh. I got transferred here because this school ‘has some shreds of respect left compared to that shameful place that shouldn’t even call itself an education institution’. I really miss Josh. He is my best friend.”

“Have you made any new friends here yet,” Joe asked.

Patrick let out a small smile, “Yeah. Tyler Joseph who sits with me in your class. He’s awesome.”

“I did notice he’s been sitting next to you lately, I’m glad,” Joe face crinkled into a wide grin and Patrick suddenly felt a lot better.

“Also Lynz Way, Chris Salih and Nick Thomas. We all practice in here at lunch, and Lynz is teaching me how to play guitar,” Patrick began tapping his foot at the thought. He clutched the neck of the guitar hard, “They’ve been so nice to me. I pretty much expected to just be alone for this year and then I wouldn’t have to worry too much because once I graduated I could hang with Josh in the summer. When it came to college I’m going to the west coast or Florida or somewhere that is as far away from my Dad as I can possibly get.”

Joe nodded, “That’s probably best. Are you going to take a gap year?”

“My Dad probably won’t let me but I could probably convince him to let me if I took some extra credit courses at City-wide. I want to work a bit so I have some money behind me. Then I don’t have to rely completely on my Parents while I’m gone.”

Joe nodded, “You’re a smart kid, Patrick. I was just going to suggest that. Always good to have a safety net behind you if you’re not happy with your course too. I’ve heard of so many people being forced into college courses they never wanted to do so they dropped out and just wasted time and money that they could have spent on doing something that they actually wanted to.”

“That’s if I can even get away with it, a big if,” Patrick looked up a Joe, “Did you go to college because you wanted to be a teacher or did you want to be something else.”

Joe stared down at the guitar he was holding, “I went to college and became a teacher because I wanted to help my brother. He has some issues and we’re the only people we have left so we look after each other… I probably shouldn’t be telling you this either so please don’t blab to anyone. Telling a student my personal life could probably lose me my job.”

Patrick smiled, “Now we both know things we shouldn’t about the other. Don’t worry, I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”

“I believe this is called a truce.”

Joe seemed younger than ever to Patrick in that moment. His professionalism and positive attitude that seemed to come from years of perfected experience was stripped back until Patrick looked at Joe and very almost saw himself… if only for a fleeting moment. Joe was young with weights on his shoulders that he never expected or asked for. He was just trying to survive. Joe was doing things for other people just like Patrick was.

They weren’t living for themselves.

Patrick’s attention turned back to his guitar and tried again to form his fingers into the C chord. He struggled but managed to strum out an almost perfect C note. Although Patrick was sure one of the fingers hadn’t been completely holding the string properly and Joe’s next sentence confirmed it.

“You’re almost there. C chord seems hard now with a bit more stretching of your fingers you’ll be able to form it without problem… now the F chord and B chords, well that’s a different story altogether.”

Patrick concentrated hard, his fingers hurting and awkward as he held the uncomfortable position and then strummed twice.

The chord sounded fine and Patrick grinned. Joe grinned back and patted him on the back.

“Good job, you keep practicing and you’ll have it mastered soon!”

“I wish I could practice at home, but even then, my Dad is thinking of getting me a tutor. He doesn’t think my English grade is good enough.”

“Are you kidding,” Joe almost shouted, “Your work is one of the best in the class. I don’t think I’ve given you anything other than a high B.”

“Yeah, but he expects an A,” Patrick replied sadly, “I’ll probably have to start studying in lunch time which means no more guitar.”

Joe stood up and leant the guitar against the bench he’d been sitting on.

“I’ll tutor you, Patrick.”

Patrick blinked.

“What.”

“I’m your English teacher, Patrick,” Joe replied, “And I’ll tutor you. I’ll help you understand the material and work better so I can justifiably give you an A and then you can still practice music at lunch.”

Patrick shook his head vaguely, “Um… but when are we going to do this?”

“I can keep the school library open until five after school and I have keys to this place.”

“Yeah, but how are we going to get away with this,” Patrick sighed, “It won’t last for long.”

“I can have a meeting with you par-”

“-No, you promise!”

“No, Patrick, wait! I’m not going to tell them everything. We’ll have a meeting for me to be like, ‘I think you would benefit from a tutor and I’m willing to offer my services’. Ok, I won’t tell them anything else. It’ll be a front, ok? Please breath, Patrick. None of this is going to happen if you suffocate before we can begin.”

Patrick took two minutes to regulate his breathing again. He kept his eyes tightly closer and ran his fingers softly over the strings holding the E minor note.

“Ok?”

Patrick nodded and opened his eyes. Joe was looking at him with an intense stare like he was expecting him to spontaneously combust or something equally as concerning.

They sat in silence and Patrick wondered how long it would be until Tyler got to school.

“Ok, so I’m going to head to the staff room which means I have to lock up, sorry,” Joe said, picking up the guitar and placing it back In the music closet. Patrick followed suit and swung his backpack over his shoulder as he walked out of the classroom.

“I’m ring your parents today about the meeting if you’d like,” Joe called. Patrick stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“Yes, but only what you said remember.”

“Patrick, I promised and I’ll keep my promise,” Joe assured him, but Patrick didn’t reply as he walked quickly across the yard towards the car park.

He still had time before school to drive over to Starbucks and get some caffeine. Boy, did he need it right now after that ordeal.

Tutoring and guitar lessons from Joe Trohman didn’t sound too bad. Patrick however did think he was going to feel a bit awkward with just him and another teacher working one on one… although after this morning’s events Patrick had begun to view Joe in a different light. He knew that actively calling him ‘Mr Trohman’ to everyone else’s face was going to prove a more difficult task now.

~

“Hey man, I missed you in English and lunch yesterday,” Tyler plopped down next to Patrick on a bench as they waited for Joe to turn up and unlock the classroom.

“Yeah, man. Sorry, I was sick.”

“Oh,” said Tyler concerned, “You're ok now, though?”

“Err, yeah thanks,” Patrick replied slowly. It was strange that he had only met Tyler like last week and he was already worrying after Patrick's health.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“How about you though?”

“Yeah,” Tyler nodded, bouncing his foot. He leaned over and whispered in Patrick's ear, “I got a Tattoo machine and I'm gonna tattoo myself.”

“What the hell, you're seventeen and where the hell did you buy one of those,” Patrick hissed because he's heard some crazy shit in his time but this took the cake.

“The Internet, my friend,” Tyler replied, “and it’ll be fine.”

“Do you even take art,” Patrick asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nah,” Tyler replied, “it clashed with music, but its fine because I draw at home. Wanna see some designs?”

“Sure-”

The door to the classroom opened and Patrick watched as Tyler quickly shoved a sketchbook back in his bag and followed him into the classroom.

As they took their seats, Joe began writing the days tasks on the board. Tyler shoved his sketchbook in Patrick's hands as they pulled out their workbooks. Patrick flipped through the pages and was surprised. A lot of the drawings were patterns and shapes rather than sketches of drawings. Some of them reminded Patrick of the optical illusions books he was into at age twelve.

“These are really good, Ty,” Patrick replied, handing the text book over to his friend as Joe turned to face the class.

“Ok, so the theme of wealth is consistently present throughout Gatsby-”

“You should actually be sort of glad you missed yesterday,” Tyler wrote on his notepad and handed it Patrick. Patrick wrote down five question marks in a row and handed it back.

Tyler picked out a lead pencil and used that to write the reply.

“Mr. T was in a weird quiet mood. He didn’t talk much and seemed very angry over something. He got us just to read and take notes the whole lesson. He wasn’t himself.”

Patrick read the sentence twice and then handed the notepad back to Tyler who then, revealing his motive for the use of lead pencil, erased the entire sentence. He then scrunched up the rest of the page and threw the ball of paper into the bottom of his backpack.

Patrick with raised eyebrows turned back to the front of the classroom and tuned back into Joe.

“The American Dream. Money and Wealth can get you anywhere, get you anything. Gatsby belief in this is shown again and again until near the end. Daisy’s rejection essentially shattered his belief. Without the belief that he has centred his whole plan on, what is Gatsby left with?”

Patrick tapped his pocket and felt the slim metal of his iPod in the pocket of his pants. He wondered if maybe Pete believed in Gatsby’s American Dream. Did he think that replacing Patrick's broken Walkman would fix the several million heart failures Pete had caused Patrick during his stalking foray?

Maybe Patrick could forgive him… If he never had to see him ever again.

~

Patrick packed up his bags at the end of English and turned to Tyler.

“Do you think I should buy my first guitar as new or second hand?”

“Oh definitely second hand,” Tyler said, “Especially if you’re still new to it because what if you don’t stick with it? Also second hand guitars always have great personality and just when you’re further along you can buy your own new guitar and then make it you-”

“Patrick, can I speak to you?”

Joe sat at his desk, looking at a note book. Tyler turned and raised his eyebrows in Patrick’s direction. Patrick shrugged in response and motioned towards the door. Tyler did a little half smile in Patrick’s direction as he left the classroom quickly leaving Patrick and Joe alone.

“I’ve been drafting what I’m going to discuss with your parents when I call them. Although I’m not going to discuss everything with them over the phone. I do intend on actually meeting them,” Joe leaned back in his chair and tapped his desk with his biro.

“Ok, as long as you doesn’t mention any of the music then we’ll be fine,” Patrick sat down on the desk closest to Joe’s desk, “Because I think I should just remind you I was pulled out of my old school and taken away from my best friend in the whole world because they kept suggesting I should do music. I didn’t even get to the stage of doing it. If he found out that I was learning guitar behind his back already he woul-”

Maybe Patrick was too worked to pay attention but suddenly Joe was directly in front of him, He had two gentle cool hands on both sides of Patricks face.

“Breathe. Take a deep breath, Patrick.”

Patrick nodded, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought about the iPod in his pocket. He needed to escape with some music. Music. The root and saviour of his current panic.

Joe seemed to read his mind.

“You can stay in here for the next period, I’ll write you a sick note for – what is your next class?”

“AP Physics with Mr Ross,” Patrick replied, “He’s gonna be pissed if I miss it.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Joe insisted, “You stay here.”

Patrick nodded and went back to his usual desk. He pulled his iPod out and clicked on the music list. He scrolled though the several albums he had managed to rip onto it before his father had come home the previous evening.

His hand hovered over a couple of albums he’d also found stashed on a USB drive inside the iPod box. Pete had obviously wanted to pass along some music he thought was good and Patrick was always open to music recommendation no matter who they came from. They had a raw, dirty and messy sound like the lead singer really didn’t know what he was doing but it also fucking worked? Like his voice was harsh, screech and untrained but it hypnotised you. Along with the lyrics of death, standing tall, corpses, hope, pills, bullets and suicide. Patrick never in his life thought he would like that kind of music. He always found it kind of depressing and harsh but maybe a switch had clicked in his brain or maybe his music taste had just matured but whatever it was… Patrick loved this band. And with the steady hum of the leader singers high pitched raw and the dirty guitar tracks Patrick sat and slipped away into his head completely. He had no idea how much time had passed until Joe re-entered the room with a look on his face that screamed ‘Don’t fuck with me’

Patrick popped one ear out.

“Everything ok?”

Joe huffed, “You’re right. Mr Ross was pissed over your class. He gave me a copy of the lesson structure to hand along so you could do it at home and catch up before tomorrow. He says it’s all in the textbook.”

Patrick nodded and reached down to pick up the earbud again.

“What you listening to?”

Patrick mentioned the name and Joe’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh wow, I didn’t realise they’d finished their album yet,” He said thoughtfully.

“You know them,” Patrick cried, “Are you serious? They’re amazing!”

“Yeah, I know they’re amazing,” Joe smiled, “Also I do know them. The lead guitarist is called Ray and he’s an old friend of mine.”

Patrick’s head swum, “Could you maybe pass along that they’re amazing and I’m totally listening to this album on repeat all the time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Joe chuckled, “But hey how did you get the music I was under the impression that they weren’t finishing their album or maybe it was that they hadn’t released it yet…. I’m not sure.”

“Well, um, my friend gave it to me a USB, and I don’t know how he got it, I didn’t have time to ask.”

Patrick stared at his knees and hoped to god Joe didn’t get all curious and shit because Patrick really didn’t any opportunities to blab to anyone that he had a stalker who liked to buy him gifts and rec him music.

Patrick could feel Joe staring straight at his face like that would help reveal something to Joe who obviously had super X-rays powers or some shit like that.

“That’s really cool that you have it already, you friend must be friends with the band. Maybe I should hit them up for an early copy…” Joe said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“While you’re there hit them up for free concert tickets for their next show, for me obviously however if you wanna come to that’s ok,” Patrick said and before he knew he was picturing Joe in a mosh pit in a band shirt, jeans and black leather boots. He would be jumping up and down and his long hair would be flying in every direction. His hair would be a curtain for him to sit behind.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Joe answered in a voice that made Patrick wonder if he was actually going to be serious about the ticket thing…. Even though he’d have to sneak out or say he was staying at a friend’s house for him to be able to go. Patrick imagined how cool it’d be. He’d never been to a concert before but he desperately wanted to go to one. He had a strange feeling he would be at home there. Well more at home than he’d ever felt anywhere else in his life.

In that moment Patrick felt something he hoped he never would feel….

The urge to text Pete.

He didn’t want to chat. Oh no. He just wanted to see if Pete knew anything else about the band or whether he knew them too. It sounded as if they were only small and had only just recorded their first and Patrick’s favourite album.

He had the urge to text Pete but Patrick was also (at least he liked to think he is) a smart man and decided that he was definitely not going to do that… EVER.

 

~~

~~

 

Joe was just helping Patrick. Just going to have a quick word to Ryan that Patrick was sick and wouldn’t be in his class that afternoon…. But of course it could never be as simple as that.

Joe entered the classroom and if it wasn’t for the fifteen or so students sitting at desks he would have turned the entire classroom over that instant…

Another one of his kind had been in here… he could smell it. It was an incredibly familiar scent but one that he couldn’t pick almost like the sharp chemical undertone that usually hinted under the surface of another immortals scent was masking the rest of the scent. Joe had definitely heard whispers that some of their kind had the ability to mask their scents so as to smell human but Joe had never seen any evidence of it before.

He must have stood in the doorway for a moment too long because he looked back up, working hard to relax his face from battle to casual and saw Ryan had paused midsentence. He was looking at him with a crinkled brow. When he saw that Joe was paying attention to him his face broke into a smile.

“Can I help you, Mr Trohman?”

Joe nodded and his face broke into an easy smile, “Yes please, Mr Ross I just have to talk to you about something quickly and in private if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, class please keep writing the notes down while I talk to Mr Trohman,” Joe followed Ryan into the physics lab offices and sat down on Ryan’s desk before Ryan could close the door. Ryan paused, noting Joe’s position and placed one hand on his hip before speaking.

“What’s going on, Joe?”

“Patrick Stump is ill this period and that’s why he’s not attending your lesson. I just thought I’d come and let you know because he fell ill during my lesson.”

“Hmm, ok, I know he can’t help that but I’ll give you a copy of today’s lesson and the homework plan to give to him. He doesn’t want to fall behind. Now, if there’s anything else…”

“Yes, actually,” Joe said, standing up and taking a few quick steps towards Ryan. The human teacher stumbled back in surprise but Joe grabbed his shoulder and held him still.

“You’re keeping a secret, Ryan. Something you know no one’s going to believe but let me just tell you that I am really interested in knowing and I won’t even tell you that you’re crazy.”

Ryan’s eyes were wide with fear. He tried to struggle out of Joes grip but Joe clamped down on his shoulder harder, earning a surprised squeak from the human.

“…I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about-”

“Who is it, Ryan. I promise I won’t tell Gobin,” Joe said sweetly, his grip progressively tightening until he knew he would leave a bruise.

“O-ok! Ok, please let go of my shoulder, I’ll tell you,” Ryan hissed. Joe let go of his shoulder and Ryan’s hand shot up to rub his shoulder, wincing as he did so.

Joe waited and Ryan stopped, looking at him with fear flickering around his eyes.

“You can’t tell anyone, I’ll get fir-”

“Just fucking tell me, Ross.”

“It’s Brendon… Mr. Urie…. We’re having an affair together,” Ryan bit out.

Joe’s brain went blank. Wait, he was pretty sure he recalled Brendon saying he had a wife called Sarah… or was it Samantha?

Joe reached forward, grabbed the high collar of Ryan’s shirt and pulled it down to reveal his collarbones… and two small puncture marks the perfect size for immortal fangs.

Jesus Christ. It was Brendon. Brendon was an immortal and he’d been fucking hiding his scent from Joe. But why would he do that? What reason did he have for not being upfront with Joe? He knew that packs that got close could get territorial and shit but two individuals together tended to get along just as well as any humans.

Brendon had looked at Joe weirdly on the first day of school. He’d known straight away obviously because Joe couldn’t mask his scent.

Joe touched a finger to the semi healed bite marks and Ryan winced before reaching up to try and swat Joe’s hands away. Joe kept his hand in place.

“Do you know what you’re getting into, Ross?”

Ryan took a deep breath and shook his head, “I think I’m going crazy.”

“You will be if you stay with him,” Joe replied quietly, he let his eyes flood red as if he was going to feed and Ryan took a step back. Joe let this happen.

“What are you both…?” He whispered.

“The same as Brendon except with much better control. The fact that he’s already fed on you either means he doesn’t have much control or he doesn’t think you’re very important. You should stay away from him.”

Ryan eyes were watering and he looked like all the light had just disappeared from the world.

“I love him,” he whispered.

Joe groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Get out while you still can.”

Joe exited the offices and didn’t even look at the students as he left the classroom. He imagined that Ryan would probably run off to tell Brendon. Fine. Let him. It would save Joe the trouble of finding Brendon later on.

Joe returned to the classroom and found Patrick listening to his iPod in the corner of the room. He instantly recognised the band but still out of human pretence waited until he could ask Patrick.

Patrick popped an earphone out, took one look at Joe and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Everything ok?”

Joe didn’t even realise his face was still angry. He tried to settle it, “You’re right. Mr Ross was pissed over your class. He gave me a copy of the lesson structure to hand along so you could do it at home and catch up before tomorrow. He says it’s all in the textbook.”

Patrick didn’t look too happy about the homework news. Joe sympathised with the poor kid. He probably had seven times more homework than most of the kids in this school thanks to his father.

Patrick picked up his earbud and had almost put it back in his ear when Joe saw his chance.

“What you listening to?”

Patrick pulled the earbud out of his ear again, held up the iPod and read out the name.

Joe knew it! It was Gerard, Mikey, Frank and Ray’s band. They were a coven that Joe had stayed with for about a decade in New Jersey just after World War 2. They were awesome and even back then he could remember Ray’s expert hands on the neck of a sleek looking homemade guitar, picking out a soothing blues tune while Gerard crooned away.

 “Oh wow, I didn’t realise they’d finished their album yet.”

Patrick’s eyebrows shot up.

“You know them? Are you serious? They’re amazing!”

“Yeah, I know they’re amazing,” Joe smiled, “Also I do know them. The lead guitarist is called Ray and he’s an old friend of mine.”

 

_Joe remembered when he’d been hungry. He’d never been this hungry before in his immortal life and the first vulnerable looking person he saw took his attention. Joe sat on the gutter of an old dilapidated wooden shack at the end of the main street. It was a dark and warm night for March, especially for New Jersey. Joe had seen a newspaper earlier that day as he’d walked by a shop front. It was 1947 and Joe realised with a jolt that he had been by himself for a whole three years. He spent the good part of those three years as a restless nomad roaming around Pittsburgh and just steadily moving as far away as he could from Chicago._

_It took Joe an hour until he locked onto a suitable victim. He was a young and poor guy who was of average height, brunette hair and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. His hair was cropped short and he wore brown trousers, brown shoes, a cream cotton shirt and he was carrying a large hessian bag. Whatever was in the bag smelled like human blood so naturally Joe made the assumption that this guy was a murderer. He figured he was probably doing the world a favour by eating him._

_Joe followed the man on foot out of town on a dirt road for a good two miles before he turned off into a little driveway. He watched the man open the gate to a small brick single story bungalow with grass that grew a metre high and a crumbling tin shed on the side. Joe had almost reached the gate as well when he found himself pinned to the ground in the tall grass by a large heavy growling mass of curly hair._

_“Who are you and why are you following Brian,” the large man growled and bared his fangs in Joes face. Joe went completely still and bared his neck in submission._

_“I was just hunting. He was carrying a body so I figured he was a killer. I don’t like to hunt innocent people but I swear to god if you don’t want me to touch him I’ll move on. I didn’t mean to encroach on your territory.”_

_Joe felt the weight lift from his chest and suddenly a hand was helping to his feet. He dusted himself off and looked up at his assailant. He was looking at a tall gangly man, who at the very least must have been six foot tall. He had an olive complexion, a large square face with large lips and hazel eyes. He grinned a huge grin and appraised Joe’s filthy appearance._

_“You’re a nomad. When was the last time you slept in a proper bed, friend?”_

_Joe blinked and stared at Ray’s face as he motioned to the door of the house._

_“Come inside, I’ve got some blood, are you hungry?”_

_Joe nodded._

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Joe,” Joe’s voice sounded strange to him from weeks of disuse._

_Joe slowly followed Ray inside the house which was clean and plainly adorned inside. Cream walls, timber floorboards. Minimal scattered furniture as if no one really lived inside the house. Joe’s eyes flickered around and jumped at every little noise. He attempted to tuck his long hair, so similar to that of the kindly immortal in front of him, out of his face. Joe still remembered his manners and the customs that he hadn’t had to think about for many years._

_Ray led him into a basement living area. Joe froze as he looked out from behind Ray and saw three other immortals and the human Brian sitting on couches. Four sets of eyes peered interestingly at Joe as he half hid behind Ray’s presence._

_“Everyone this is Joe, he’s a nomad and very hungry so we’re giving him refuge for a time.”_

_“Bringing home another stray, Ray,” a pale, dark haired man with dark, hazel eyes and a medium build piped up from the couch furthest away from the staircase._

_“If I remember correctly you’re the one who’s brought the strays that stayed,” Ray gestured to the others in the room._

_“That’s Brian, who you’ve met. He helps us with some stuff that’s harder for us to get as non-humans.”_

_“Sorry,” Joe whispered, and Brian shrugged and smiled at him._

_“He’s been through worse, we’ve had his back from the Mafia for a couple of years now.”_

_Joe’s eyes widened and Brian shrugged again, the picture portrait of relaxation._

_“And the loud mouth over there is Gerard, and also his brother Mikey,” Ray pointed over to the dark haired man and another guy next to him that was a thinner, ganglier version of Gerard with more of a light brown hair and sharper features whereas Gerard’s face was round._

_“Yes, we’re biologically brothers too,” Gerard answered Joe’s unasked question._

_“We’ve been here as a coven for about twenty years now since I turned Gerard and Mikey. Then Gerard found Frank and Brian sort of turned up and we’ve been our coven ever since.”_

_Ray motioned for Joe to take a seat. Joe took the seat on the closet couch. He smiled shyly at the others._

_“You must be hungry,” Ray walked out of the room and returned a second later with a glass bottle full of blood. Joe had heard things about this new advancement in blood transfusions that allowed them to store it for longer but he wasn’t sure whether it was a wide spread thing._

_“Where did you get this,” Joe asked._

_“I have a few medical friends that supply me, It’s still a fairly new thing they’re going to start trialling plastic bags soon” Ray said casually, “But this should tide you over for a bit, we’ll take you for a proper hunt tomorrow now that you know Brian off limits.”_

_Joe smiled and five faces smiled back at him._

Patrick’s voice brought Joe back into the present.

 “Could you maybe pass along that they’re amazing and I’m totally listening to this album on repeat all the time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Joe chuckled, imagining the glee on Gerard’s face “But hey how did you get the music I was under the impression that they weren’t finishing their album or maybe it was that they hadn’t released it yet…. I’m not sure.”

“Well, um, my friend gave it to me a USB, and I don’t know how he got it, I didn’t have time to ask.”

Patrick stared at his knees and Joe looked at him strangely. Did Patrick unknowingly have immortal friends or had the boys started mixing with humans more lately… They hadn’t done much of that since they turned Brian about five years into Joes stay with them.

Joe had been staring at Patrick in thought for far too long before he realised what he was doing.

“That’s really cool that you have it already, you friend must be friends with the band. Maybe I should hit them up for an early copy…” Joe said, trying to brush off on the fact he’d accidentally stared for too long. 

“While you’re there hit them up for free concert tickets for their next show, for me obviously however if you wanna come to that’s ok,” Patrick obviously wanted to move on from the incident too.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Joe answered, knowing full well that if he asked for free tickets for him and a friend and basically anyone else Gerard would throw them in his direction like they were fucking confetti.

Patrick’s face lit up like Christmas day and Joe knew that he would definitely get tickets next time the boys were anywhere near Chicago.

Joe’s smile faded away as he remembered what he needed to do now. He picked up his notepad, went back to his desk and picked up the telephone.

“You’re welcome to stay in here while I call home or you can go outside for a bit too, whatever is more comfortable.”

“I think I’ll say,” Patrick said slowly, “Anyone it’s only my mother home at the moment. She won’t immediately overreact on the phone like my father might’ve if he took this call.”

Joe nodded, appraising Patrick’s hunched over figure and waited until Patrick had pressed play on his iPod again before dialling in the phone number on Patrick’s record.

“Hello, Stump residence, Patricia speaking.”

“Afternoon, Mrs Stump this is Joseph Trohman from St Decades. I’m just calling in regards to your son, Patrick. I’m his English teacher and while he is doing fantastic in my class so far I just thought I might like to talk to you and your husband about possibly organising some tutoring for him so he can reach his absolute potential.”

“Oh,” said Patricia, silence rang on the line for a moment, “Well I’m sure that’s a great idea if you feel like his learning could benefit from extra tutoring. He is taking on a lot at the moment and I’d have to discuss this with my husband… He’ll probably want to discuss this too. Would I be to talk to my husband and then get back to you to organise a meeting time?”

“Yes, of course,” Joe replied, “Please do that and let him know I look forward to meeting you both. Patrick is a delightful student and I only hope to see him progress to his full potential.”

“Of course, thank you for your call.”

“No problem, you enjoy the rest of your day Mrs Stump.”

“Thank you, Mr Trohman. I will, goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Joe hung up the phone and turned to face Patrick again. The human teen was watching him like a hawk.

“Wow, you really know how to talk professional when you need to, don’t you,” Patrick exclaimed slowly, “that was impressive. I knew my Mom would eat that shit up.”

“Years of experience,” Joe replied grinning, “Not that I wasn’t honest. I am going to tutor so you can get a better grade and keep your Dad off your back and out of your business which will leave you room to practice at lunch times too.”

Patrick grinned at Joe and Joe felt himself mirroring the grin right back.

“Do you think your Dad is going to be ok?”

“Yeah,” Patrick shrugged, “Anytime he gets a chance to talk about my future he eats that shit up. In fact you’re in for the full show so I hope you’re prepared.”

Joe hoped he was prepared too. He didn’t know how he felt about meeting Patrick’s father. He knew that the man meant well for his son and only wanted the best for him (something Joe could totally relate to) but he wasn’t too sure about his methods around it.

Joe pondered on this for the five minutes before the period ended and Patrick got up to leave for lunch. Joe thought of getting a coffee but then he had seen Brendon this morning. He wasn’t sure if he could control himself in front of the other staff and he definitely did not want to blow his entire cover in front of Gobin. No, he’d breathe, stay in his classroom for lunch and hoped that when the inevitable time came for Joe to see Brendon again that he would be under control. Whether he would ever be truly in control was another question to add to a mounting list of them that Joe had ended up compiling in his head. The list now included whether Pete’s tryst with his Siren would end smoothly and without problems and also how the hell did Patrick Stump already have My Chemical Romance on his iPod.

Joe supposed he might as well just call Gerard seeing as it had been about six months since they’d talked.

“Hola amigo. You’ve been a stranger.”

“Apologies, Gerard. Things have been going on, on my end.”

“Yeah, it’s all good, I understand. I mean, Frank turned a human so now we have a new coven member who might I add is a fucking gem on the keyboard. His name is James but he probably won’t be in control enough to do our opening tour with us but maybe in a year or two.”

“Oh wow, that’s big news. I actually did call you to ask how the album was going. I met someone who had a copy of your album already but like I was wondering how they got it because I didn’t think you guys had released yet.”

“Well, we’ve handed out digital copies already to a few friends. In fact, I specifically remember that Pete has one. Don’t tell that little shit hasn’t shared with you yet.”

“No, he hasn’t shared yet,” Joe said bitterly. Gerard giggled on his end of the phone.

“Oh man, hit him up for it. Like, not to blow my horn or anything but, fucking hell man. This album is just something, ok.”

Joe laughed, “If it’s even one percent of what I know you guys are capable of then it’ll be magnificent.”

Joe could almost feel Gerard’s grin through the phone, “Thanks man. That means a lot. How is Petey?”

Joe sighed slowly before opening the floodgates, “He’s got a siren song. And he won’t tell me anything other than the fact that it’s a seventeen year old boy… I had to pull the claw thing the other night to get him to feed properly. I’m fucking worried, Gerard.”

He heard Gerard sigh on the end of the phone, “Frank was a siren song to me, Joe. I don’t think I ever told you that. But just like make sure you talk to Pete and be let him know that you’re not going to flip your shit if he decides he wants this kid turned rather than just eating him.”

Joe almost choked, “Fuck. Turning him? Pete doesn’t even function properly without me around, Gerard. I took him to Gabe’s the other day to be added to the account as a contingency plan in case anything ever happened to me and he freaked out. Gerard, he thought I was planning on leaving or something… how can he be expected to look after a newborn?”

“Oh no, Joe. He won’t be doing it. You’ll be doing it. He’ll come to you begging and because he is your whole world, you’ll give in. You’ll turn this kid.”

“I’m not turning anyone ever again,” Joe vowed, “Pete was unexpected and he’s going to be the only one. I never wanted to be a sire.”

“But see, that’s just the thing, man,” Gerard replied, “Pete is your whole world whether you planned him or not. I know what happened with him. I know why you turned him which also means I know that if comes to you with this request you’ll do it.”

“The kid is seventeen and I haven’t even met him yet. I don’t even know what he’s like yet.”

“Jesus, Joe. You sound exactly like my Mom and I haven’t heard her voice since 1922. God bless her,” Gerard sighed, “Look you never knew Pete before you turned him- and yes I know that it’s a different situation- look I’m not saying that Pete is going to ask you to turn this kid but if he does ask you don’t be douche about it. If Ray hadn’t turned Frank for me I wouldn’t have found my fucking soul mate, man.”

Joe stared at the whiteboard across the room. How does one even reply to that?

“Look man, you probably got to get back to your job. I know, I do. We’re sorting out the final details for the CD release so just hit me up if you need another chat or maybe even call Ray. He’s probably the best to talk to. Anyway, love you man. Stay awesome.”

Gerard hung up and Joe sighed heavily. Wow. Ok. Turning this kid? No, Joe wasn’t even going to think about that until he had to. He hated to sound like a pessimist but Pete would most likely kill the kid. Pete’s strong point was definitely not self-control.

Joe frowned as he slowly realised he was kind of hoping that Pete would just kill the kid. Joe didn’t like taking human life even though his nature dictated that he wanted to and definitely made it easy as anything to do so. But Joe had never caught himself actively wishing someone would die.

What was wrong with him?

This fucking poor innocent kid did not deserve to die so Joe could avoid facing his greatest fear that he was still recovering from some sixty years after he’d turned Pete.

Joe was not meant to be a sire. He did it once but he was definitely not doing it again.

That still didn’t excuse of literally wishing death on this kids… a death that probably wouldn’t be nice either Pete wasn’t the most composed of killers when he lost control…

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, before shaking his head and picking up his keys.

He needed coffee and if he happened to run into Brendon Urie on the way then come what may.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> Here's another chapter. Please tell me any thoughts or predictions you may have so far. Thank you, also, for all the lovely comments and hits. I appreciate them so much.


	7. When I Come Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has a very interesting trip to the mall.

Patrick was sitting in the kitchen with his mother and father, about to take a bite from his lasagna when his mother spoke up.

“Patrick, is there something you’d like to tell your father about school today?”

Patrick took a deep breath, “Yeah, err, My English teachers wants me to start tutoring.”

Dave raised his eyebrows in Patrick’s direction. 

“Why? Is it something to do with your grades? Because you told me that you were doing really well in English.”

“No, I am. I am,” Patrick insisted, “But Mr Trohman believes that I could do even better with some extra tutoring. I’m willing to do it if you guys will support me in it.” 

“Well…” Patrick’s Dad placed his fork down on the table, “You’re doing very well with your grades and as long as you promise to not let them slip, then I will approve this. Every higher score you get will improve your GPA. So as long as you commit and make use of this then go for it, kiddo.”

Patrick smiled, and continued eating. So maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard to pull off as he thought. But he’d have to put his head down and make sure his grades stayed up.

“This Mr Trohman sounds like he really cares about his students,” Patricia added, “He said that Patrick was an excellent student. I don’t think you get that much nowadays… Teachers that actually care?”

“Hmm, you’re right, dear, “Dave replied, “I’m glad Patrick is fortunate enough to have such a caring teacher. We will of course still meet with him just to go over a few things. Just so he’s in on the plan, Patrick.”

Patrick nodded, “Yeah, of course. I’ve already sort of talked to Mr Trohman about it, but I guess you’re better on the detail.”

They finished the meal in relative silence before Patrick escaped up to his bedroom. He changed into grey pyjamas pants and a black v neck t-shirt. He didn’t dare listen to his iPod now that is father was home so he stashed it safely in its hiding spot and started to tackle his physics work so he would be able to apologise to Mr Ross tomorrow. 

But he couldn’t get that damn music out of his head. The album he’d been obsessively listening to of late. He didn’t even know what they band looked like but he could imagine going to their show. In a little dark and dirty bar somewhere and listening to the faceless lead singer screaming into the microphone about phantoms. He wondered what they looked like… If only he could text Joe. They were his friends he probably had a picture of them somewhere.

Patrick smacked his head against his desk and picked up his phone. Before he could think to ask himself what the ever loving fuck he was doing he’d already sent the text.

_“Where did you get that Bullets album from?”_

Patrick clicked his phone shut and threw it onto his bed. He didn’t want to see the reply... He wanted to see the reply.

It took approximately thirty seconds for his phone to buzz with a new message received.

“Hey, how are you going? I got the album from the lead singer Gerard, who is an old friend. Do you like it? I really love it. Let me know what you think.”

Patrick stared at the giant paragraph. Someone else who knew the band. How was it that everyone knew these cool, awesome bands and he wasn’t even fucking allowed to learn to play guitar.

Damn, he texted back really fast. Almost as if he’d been waiting several whole days for Patrick to change his mind and text him again.

Damnit, Patrick really shouldn’t have text him.

“Pandora’s box,” Patrick sighed, before tapping a message back, ‘I’m good. They’re really good. I’ve been listening to their album on repeat.”

One part of his brain was screaming. He honestly didn’t think that he was really controlling himself. He felt like he having an out of body experience yet he also knew that this was entirely on him.

Patrick’s phone buzzed a whole five seconds later. Jesus, Pete could text like lightening.

“They’ll be touring soon. When they come to Chicago I can get you in to meet them.”

Patrick sucked in a breath. Two offers now to see the band. Of course he knew he would rather go with Joe who wasn’t a fucking stalker or anything. Though, logically, Patrick was still bound to run into Pete if he went the show.

Why was he even letting himself think about this yet? It would still be a while before they would even come to Chicago if they were only just starting their tour. You didn’t start your tour in Chicago unless you came from Chicago and Patrick was sure Joe had mentioned New Jersey.

Patrick heard footsteps near the top of the staircase. He quickly closed his phone, slipped it in his pocket and threw himself back into his Physics homework… which now looked about twenty times more confusing than it had at the beginning. 

Patrick honestly didn’t think he was going to manage a GPA of 4 this year without losing his freaking mind.

Patrick heard a knock at his bedroom door.

“Come in,” He called. His father entered immediately and stood behind him at his desk, glancing over Patrick’s homework. He still wore cream trousers and a light blue business shirt from work though the top button was undone and Patrick knew his tie was probably hanging from a coat hook in the entrance way.

“I never liked Physics but it is important.”

Patrick nodded, “I get it, it’s just takes me a little bit of thinking. It’s not as simple for me as chemistry.”

“Or English?”

“I love English,” Patrick said enthusiastically, “But I agree with what Mr Trohman said. I could always do with extra help. Sometimes it is difficult.”

“Well, we’re going to meet with him on Monday to have a face to face chat so you should be able to start on Tuesday perhaps,” Patrick’s Dad patted his shoulder and headed towards his bedroom door, “In the meantime put your head down and finish your homework. You’ll have it finished in no time.”

Before Patrick’s Dad could leave the room, Patrick’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. Patrick sucked in a breath and prayed that his attempt keep his face neutral.

“You can text friends after your finish your work,” Patrick’s Dad warned.

“No, it’s not a text. it’s a reminder I set for myself on my phone about my physics homework,” Patrick lied quickly. His father stared at him for a second before nodding and walking out of the room. 

Patrick sat frozen at his desk for a whole minute before he jumped up and quietly closed his bedroom door. What was it with parents and being incapable of closing the goddamn door?

Patrick sat back at his desk and knocked out the last few questions on his work before he closed the lid of his laptop. He walked over to his bed, pulled back the grey and navy striped comforter and climbed underneath despite the fact that it was only seven thirty.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked open the messenger app.

“Sorry if that was too forward.”

“Patrick, please reply.”

Patrick sighed before he tapped out a reply.

“No it’s ok, I was talking with my Dad and doing homework, that’s why I took so long to reply.”

Patrick smacked himself in the forehead with his phone. Every text was digging a deeper hole.

“Oh ok. So I’ll let you know when they’re coming to town.”

“Please do.”

There was a minute gap before the next message arrived.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Thanks for actually talking to me. You were right to tell me to fuck off.”

Patrick sighed and place his phone on the side table for about ten seconds before he grabbed it again and pressed it flat against his forehead again. He held it with both hands and closed his eyes.

He could see Pete’s face behind his eyelids… which wasn’t the best thing in the entire world, to be truly honest.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Patrick” Patrick hissed before he tapped out a reply.

“Thanks for saying sorry…” Patrick backspaced the entire messaged before he finished it and changed his mind, “Don’t mention it.”

“Ok, but thank you for giving me a chance to change.”

Patrick heart skipped a beat. How on earth was he supposed to reply to that?

He turned over and stared out the gap in his curtains to look at the new night sky. He lived in suburban Chicago but tonight he could see more of the stars in the sky then he’d ever witnessed during his entire lifetime spent watching the sky from this window. The moon was a waxing crescent and its milky light seemed to shine right down onto Patrick’s face. Patrick closed his eyes and tried to imagine what the physical embodiment of that light would feel like bathed over his face.

All he could think about was a fleecy white blanket with silky white faux fur on one side of it that Patrick’s mother keep in the linen closet in the hallway. She brought it out during winter and threw it over her knees while she watched television and crocheted after dinner. Patrick remembered when he was younger he sit on the floor by his mother’s feet and lean side on to her legs, pressing his face into the blanket. 

Patrick was half tempted to climb out of bed and grab the blanket but he was also already so comfortable. It was only almost on eight o clock and Patrick felt like he could fall asleep right there and then.

Instead Patrick picked up his phone and tapped on the messenger app one last time for the night.

“Everyone deserves a second chance. Goodnight.”

“Yeah Nighty night Patrick.”

Patrick fell asleep with his phone clutched in his hand.

~

_Pete’s mouth clashed against his angrily as he pulled Patrick down onto the bed. Pete’s fingers dug in the soft supple flesh of Patrick’s ass and Patrick let out a squeak of surprise. He held his breath and stared into Pete’s eyes as he lifted two fingers up to Patrick’s mouth and pressed them gently against his lips.  
_

_“Open.”  
_

_Pete’s command sent a ripple through Patrick’s entire being and Patrick parted his lips, feeling saliva pool into his mouth and generously coat the digits. Pete’s fiery eyes never broke contact with Patrick’s as he slowly pulled his fingers out of Patrick’s mouth. The next seconds Patrick let out a sharp gasp as he felt a slick digit gently rub at his hole. Patrick held his breath as_

_Pete very slowly slipped one finger in until it couldn’t go any deeper. They both held perfectly still for a moment, and Patrick begin to slowly breathe out… until Pete slipped in the second finger and slowly began to flex them.  
_

_“Fuck, Pete,” Patrick whispered, pressed him face into the pillow and letting out a low groan. All he could feel were Pete’s fingers inside him.  
_

_He cried out in shock and pleasure as he felt Pete’s finger brush against what could only have been-_

Patrick woke up in his bed with a loud gasp.

He instantly sat up, breathing hard and stared the end of his bed. A very annoyed looking cat was curled up, one eye opened and glaring in reproach at the disturbance.

Patrick stared blankly as Maisy decided now that she was awake that she may as well have a bath. The small tabby continued to ignore Patrick. Patrick went to move forward to scratch her behind the ears but instantly stopped.

“Oh my god,” He hissed, moving his legs slightly and cringing at the horrible stickiness that covered his upper legs.  
Patrick lifted the blankets and peeked underneath.

“Fucking hell,” He ripped back his blankets, closed his eyes and groaned in frustration as his dream came swimming back.

Of course Patrick had to have had a fucking wet dream about Pete. Of fucking course. Except… the things he had seen he barely even knew the name for. Ok, so Patrick had watched porn just like any other normal teenage guy but that had been straight porn. The stuff Patrick had seen had definitely not be straight. In fact, it was the furthest from straight that Patrick could imagine. 

Patrick’s stomach twitched as the ghost of a sensation seemed to wash over him and he was pretty damn sure he would be hard again soon if he kept these thoughts up.

Pete’s open mouth and glazed eyes as he lifted his fingers up to Patrick’s mouth.

Oh my god. No. Nope. Patrick groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was hard again and it had happened because of Pete. Pete… his stalker extraordinaire and also a guy. A dude…. With a dick 

Oh my god, Patrick so didn’t not need to question his sexuality right about now, thank you very much.

Thanks Pete.

Patrick climbed out bed, grabbed a towel and legged it over into the bathroom. It was times such as this that he was glad his parents had their own ensuite and this bathroom was basically only his. His turned on the shower and while the water ran down his back he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and attempted to wipe off as much mess off his boxers as possible. He finished his shower quickly, flushed the toilet and carried his boxers back to his bedroom.

Patrick quickly grabbed track pants and a faded blue polo shirt, pulled them on and then proceeded to strip the bed completely. He added his boxers to the pile of sheets and just hoped his mother wouldn’t question too much into him voluntarily changing and washing his own sheets. She always kept talking about how she intended to let Patrick be in charge of his own laundry and he forgot to wash he’d have to deal with the consequences himself… but Patrick had a feeling he wouldn’t have to worry too much about that until college.

Patrick also didn’t think he’d have to worry too much about his sexuality either. He noticed girls for sure but now he noticed Pete too but that was something he was so just going to unhealthily ignore until College.

Patrick walked downstairs, put his washing on and was pouring a glass of juice for himself before his mother even entered the room.

“Good morning, sweet.”

“Morning Mom,” Patrick said, leaning casually against the kitchen bench top, juice still in hand.

Patrick’s mum headed over towards the fridge but paused for a whole five seconds, listening, before walking in the laundry.

Patrick drained the last of his juice from the glass.

Patricia entered the room, both eyebrows raised and stared at Patrick.

“Baby, did you put a load of washing on?”

“Yeah, I had trouble sleeping because my sheets felt gross so I stripped the bed and chucked them in the machine.”

“Wow, ok. That’s great, Patrick that you’re showing initiative like that” She said, face still marred with surprise and turning back to the bench to flick the coffee machine on.

Patrick made himself toast and escaped upstairs. 

Saturday's were a blessing. He could rightfully hide in his room all day and as long as he had his homework open when his Dad came home for his lunch break, he wouldn't be bothered. 

Patrick placed his toast on his desk, grabbed fresh sheets from the linen closet across the hall and made his bed. He had to have something to get bread crumbs all over as he ate and put his earphones in. He pulled out the book list they had for English and scanned down it, before stopping at the title they'd be studying and realising with dismay, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth, that he didn't actually have it yet. That was one title he hadn't been able to find at Barnes and Noble.

 _“Dude, wanna meet up at Barnes and Noble?”_ Patrick sent a text to Tyler and hoped like hell his friend would be available. He didn't really feel like wondering a mall all alone on Saturday. He didn't have many friends but Saturday was family and friends would be all hanging out together and Patrick really didn't feel like being depressed on his day off.

_“Yeah, can you pick me up?”_

_“Sure what's you address?”_

Patrick quickly google mapped the address and replied with a _“be there in twenty”_.

He jumped up, changed into jeans and and shoved a cap on his head. He grabbed his phone, iPod, wallet and headed down stairs.

“Mom, can I borrow the car? I need to go to the mall to pick up some books for school. Also I'm going with my friend Tyler.”

Patricia peeked her head around the corner from the living room.

“Baby, you didn't tell me you've made friends!”

“Wow, what a way to put that, Mom.”

“I'm sorry, Patrick,” his Mom came up and hugged him right, “I didn't mean it like that. You know that. I just know that moving schools was hard because you were so close to Josh. I'm just really glad you've made new friends.”

“Thanks Mom,” Patrick's face went red and he pulled away from the hug and walked into the hall. He grabbed the keys from the bowl in the hallway and headed out the door, his Moms shout of “Bring him over some time,” left without a reply.

Patrick sat his iPod on the dashboard and pulled the earphones out so it used its own speakers. He'd ask Tyler if he knew what cord he had to use to plug his iPod into the car radio. 

Once he had an album that Josh had given him playing, he hit the highway and tapped on the steering wheel as he gunned it towards the edge of the city.

In twenty minutes Patrick had pulled up in front of what he hoped was the right house. It was a light grey terrace house that was identical to the other twenty four in the small side street which sat on the west side of the inner city. Patrick listened to the constant sound of cars and wondered how Tyler slept at night.

Patrick would beep the horn but that was not what Patrick was about. He texted Tyler, turned off the engine and waited patiently. 

Patrick must have zoned out pretty hard because in what seemed like seconds Tyler rapped loudly on the passenger side window. Patrick’s heart thumped loudly and he clutched his chest as he unlocked the door. 

“Shit,” he whispered. 

Tyler climbed into the car, what looked like a miniature guitar case over his shoulder and started giggling. He was wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a light grey Nike hoodie that looked as if it was two sizes too big.

“Need a moment to restart your heart there, Patrick?”

“Yeah, thanks so much asshole,” Patrick shot, before he kicked the car into gear and they pulled away from the curb.

Tyler unzipped the case.

“This is my ukulele. I thought I’d bring her along because I want to get some new tuning tabs for her at the music store. You don’t mind that do you?”

“I don’t mind at all, I love looking in music stores. There’s this really good one in the mall near our school and the guy who works in there, Bill or something?”

“Yeah, Bill.”

“Yeah, he’s awesome.”

Tyler smiled, “I’m glad you know him because when you’re finally able to get your first guitar it’s going to an awesome experience getting all the equipment you need with Bill to help us.”

They pulled into the mall parking lot and Patrick tried to get a park at the entrance that was nearest to the music store. The boys hopped out of the car and Patrick felt a bounce in his step as he tried to keep up with Tyler, who was a ball of energy even on his quietest day.

Patrick had discovered the other day at lunch that Tyler liked to climb when he got it in his head that the acoustics inside the roof of the music rooms would be ideal for playing guitar in. They’d spent ten minutes coaxing him back down after Mr Urie had come into the classroom mid practice. Tyler had to remain silent and pretend he wasn’t currently four feet about Mr Urie’s head. When asked they’d insisted Tyler had gone to the bathroom and would be back anytime soon. Mr Urie acted like he believed them but Patrick was sure he’d glanced, even for the briefest second, towards the roof tiles above them.

"Come on Patrick, I'm sort of hungry. Let's get Taco Bell or Milkshakes. Maybe both?"

Patrick laughed and followed Tyler into the mall as he bee lined for the food court. 

They came over to Taco Bell just as a small group of boys left the store. Patrick didn't take much notice until he heard his voice being shouted across the food court.

"PATRICK. PATRICK, DUDE."

Patrick spun around as he recognised that voice anywhere.

"JOSH!"

Patrick's chest felt light and his face spread in an ear splitting grin as the taller blue mohawked boy bounded across the floor and basically crash tackled Patrick into a pillar. Josh clamped down tight as he hugged Patrick like he would never see him ever again. Patrick thought about how long it had been since he'd seen his friend and guilt slowly crept over him. His chest felt tight and he patted Josh's back tightly. Holding on just as tight.

"I'm sorry, bro. I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you."

Josh pulled away and looked at Patrick seriously, the ghost of a smile still on his face. Josh was wearing basketball shorts, a black hoodie and bright purple vans.

"I know what your parents are like Patrick. I knew if they decided they didn't like me and also with you entering senior year that they were probably going to make it hard for you to see me.

"I've had plenty of opportunities," Patrick admitted, looking down at his feet.

"And we both have separate lives, friend," Josh insisted, grinning, "I'm just so happy to see you now.... How are things? Do you like your new school? Is you Dad still a complete prick... and who is your lovely companion here?"

Patrick's cheeks flushed red.

"Josh, this is Tyler. He's my friend from school. Tyler this is Josh. He's my best friend from my old school."

The boys shook hands and honestly Patrick had never seen Tyler look so star struck and quiet in his entire existence.  
Patrick raised an eyebrow but didn't question it.

"So... Taco bell?"

"I was just finishing up there but like I could probably go another soda. Can I sit with you guys? I'm with my cousin and his friends right now but I’ll ditch them for you."

Patrick started to object before Josh had already called across the floor to a group of older looking boys who were all standing around, talking and playing on their phones. They all looked so similar to Josh... Must be the genes in the family.

"Oi, douchebags. I'm gonna hang with Patty here. See you all later?"

They nodded and headed up the hall. Patrick grinned and walked up to order his food.

Tyler just kept looking at Josh.

"You ok, dude," Patrick whispered.

"Dude, you're beautiful," Tyler blurted out, still looking at Josh with an almost pained expression. 

Patrick blinked and looked between the two.

Josh was blushing. Patrick had never seen Josh blush in their entire ten years of friendship. 

Oh my god. They liked each other.

Patrick giggled as they walked to the table and Josh shot him a strange look.

"So Tyler invited me to hang out in the music room at lunch and my other friend Lynz is teaching me how to play guitar."

"Dude, no way," Josh almost shouted, a few other taco belles gave them strange looks, "Holy shit, your Dad finally let you learn?"

"No, oh my god," Patrick replied, "No he didn't. This is all secret and we're doing it secretly so like don't tell anybody please."  
Josh made a motion of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. His lips made a smacking noise as he opened them again. 

"Not a word, I promise.... but that is sooo cool. You're being so rebellious, I love it. You've been a good influence on him,

Tyler. I commend you, kind sir."

Tyler's cheeks burned bright red.

"Well, he's actually pretty good at guitar now. Patrick is in my English class and I knew he was new and I'd seen him at the music store here so I just assumed he played something and so I had to invite him to lunch time practice. Except he came and told he didn't play a single thing so we had to change that and that's how we are here today."

Josh smiled at Tyler like he was the sun.

"I'm glad that Patty here is getting taken care of by someone like you."

"Thanks," Tyler whispered.

Patrick was sitting in the middle of the two others and he very suddenly felt like he maybe wasn't there at all. 

Josh and Tyler continued to talk about music, and the differences between the schools. After a while Patrick excused himself, he told them he'd meet up with them at the music store later.

Patrick made it about thirty meters away from Taco Bell before he started giggling madly.

Tyler and Josh were smitten and that was super cute.

Patrick fished an earphone out of his pocket and clicked his iPod on shuffle as he rode the escalator up to the second floor of the mall. A rather upbeat sounding song came on and he almost felt like bopping his head as he walked except he did not want to get stared at.

Bill was shuffling through a box of records at lightning speed when he entered the store. The tips of his fingers danced over the edges of the cover slips and every now and then again he would pause, pull a record out and put it on a pile on the desk.

"Hey Bill," Patrick called out. Bill looked at the box of records for two more seconds before his eyes lazily crept up to lock onto Patricks. His face snapped into a smile.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Just having a browse, I've got some friends with me but they'll be along soon," Patrick replied, running his fingers over the new releases section of the shelf. 

"The more the merrier," Bill retorted merrily, as he returned to his shuffling.

Patrick had a certain album in mind but he was fairly sure from what Joe had said that it hadn't been released yet. His look through the titles was hopeless and he sighed heavily before moving on to a certain section. 

"It's not out in stores yet," A voice said quietly from behind him.

For the second time that day, clutched at his chest and hoped to god he had good cardiovascular health.

Pete was standing at the end of the isle, eyes browsing over the metal section. Patrick's eyes locked on him. His hair was straightened and jagged over his face like always. Today he was wearing a faded orange long sleeved sweatshirt, black skinny jeans with a studded belt and black hi tops. He was basically the epitome of everything he had always come across as. In fact now that Patrick thought about it, the music he had given by Pete was also very Pete as well. 

This guy was a walking stereotype.

A walking stereotype that Patrick had dreamed all too vividly about.

Patrick's face burned red and he quickly turned away.

"Fancy seeing you here," Pete said conversationally as he casually moved closer by browsing the next section next to Patrick.

He kept his eyes on the record and his voice neutral like Patrick was a co-worker that he saw everyday so he had to put the front of courtesy in their interactions.

Patrick couldn't even move. He was so paralysed with embarrassment and anxiety that he had to take a moment and just breathe.

"You ok, Patrick?"

"Fine," Patrick whispered in reply, nodding. He glanced up quickly to see Pete was giving him a strange look. A very strange look that Patrick could only hope didn't mean he couldn't read minds and hear exactly the turmoil going on... or the cause of it.

"Um, you don't look ok, I just..."

"You did say their album wouldn't in the stores yet," Patrick attempted to return to normal speech patterns and he hummed in his the classical melody to the opening instrumental of the album. It seemed to be helping. 

Pete's concerned face slowly faded away.

"Well, yeah, I think they said sometime next week and then they were hitting the road."

Patrick brightened up, even though he was uberly aware of the single meter between Pete and him. It was doing his head in just trying to not let his head go back to that one thought...

“Are you sure you’re alright,” Pete questioned, concern marring his face again. He placed a hand on Patrick shoulder and Patrick felt like his whole torso was on fire.

“I’m not feeling well, I just had Taco Bell so I probably ate something bad,” Patrick scrambled out of the music store, but not quick enough to miss an irritable voice that sounded an awful lol like Bill cry out, “What the hell, Pete.”

Patrick would deal with that later. Right now, bathroom.

He powerwalked down the floor, dodging people like a bullet until he finally found the corridor that led to the bathroom. He was almost about to enter the men’s when he stopped… and looked at the two disabled bathrooms next to it.

“I’m going to hell,” Patrick whispered, before he opened one of them and locked the door behind him.

Patrick walked up to the bathroom sink and turned on the water, cupping it in his hand and splashing it on his face. He rubbed hard at the skin underneath his eyes and groaned quietly as a hand trailed down to the front of his pants. 

He was oh so achingly hard. In public… and Patrick had a sneaking suspicion it was all Pete’s fault.

He was so, so fucked. He was so unbelievably fucked because in his mind he knew that the fucking dream had opened a floodgate that Patrick would have no hope in hell of closing. 

Tyler and Josh would be looking for him soon and he couldn’t fucking go walking around with a boner and there wasn’t a shower nearby. 

Patrick groaned quietly in defeat and unzipped his jeans. He was so monumentally screwed that he might as well take it to the next level and jack off in a public disabled bathroom right? 

Patrick’s hand was closing in around his dick when there was brisk knock on the door.

“Patrick, you in there? Are you ok?” 

Patrick froze because obviously he was already getting a preview of the hell he was destined for. Because his hand was on his dick and Pete was knocking on the fucking door.

“I’m fine,” Patrick tried to reply normally but his voice fucking betrayed him by being like five octaves higher than it should.

Fuck this. Fuck everything.

He looked down and hoped that the dirty tiled floor beneath him would just open up and swallow him whole. 

“No, you’re not Patrick-”

Couldn’t Pete just leave?

“I know you had a boner in the music store.”

Patrick sucked in a breath so hard that he felt dizzy. Jesus take the fucking wheel, nope. No way was this happening.

“It’s not for you, don’t flatter yourself,” Patrick snapped through the door. 

“Well, Bill is a pretty cute guy, I got to say then. He’s lucky, but isn’t he a bit old for you.” Pete replied. He totally didn’t believe a word that Patrick was saying at all. 

“It’s not for Bill,” Patrick snapped again. How the hell could he get himself out of this? He desperately tried to tuck his dick back into his pants. But he was so hard and already leaking that he knew it was impossible after about two seconds.

“Well unless you’re sexually attracted to records, which I won’t judge you for by the way, then it had to be for me, right?”

Patrick swallowed quietly and didn’t reply. What was the use of denying it? He could still picture the events of the dream clearer than anything he’d dreamed in his entire life.

“That’s what I thought,” Pete said, after a moment of silence, “and in that case, you should let me in.”

Patrick closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

That was a bad idea. It was possibly the worst idea ever but holy shit he wanted it bad as well. He wasn’t even sure who he was anymore.

Pete knocked on the door.

“Let me in, Patrick,” he whispered, “I promise you won’t regret it.”

The story of the three littles pigs swam to Patrick’s mind and Pete was definitely the wolf. Yet he found himself walking over to the door and clicking the lock before he even had a moment to realise his autopilots had betrayed him.

Pete quickly open the door, slipped inside and locked it behind. He turned around and Pete's hungry dark eyes were rimmed in black and smouldering in Patricks direction. His eyes trailed down from Patrick’s flushed face down, down his body until they landed on his hard leaking cock that Patrick was still holding in one hand. Pete blinked slowly and Patrick didn’t think it was possible that he suddenly felt even more turned on than before. He was also petrified. But his dick was taking the lead here.

“May I,” Pete walked closer until he was an inch away from Patrick.

Patrick felt like there was electricity bouncing in the small space between Pete and him. He nodded slowly at Pete’s question. 

Pete placed a hand on Patrick’s hip, still avoiding the obvious and moved his lips until they were so close to Patrick’s they almost brushed.

“Are you sure,” he whispered, eye locked onto Patrick’s. Patrick couldn’t look away from the deep pools of chocolate that were before him. His breathing was light and stuttering as he desperately tried to see through Pete’s Irises into his enigmatic brain.

“Yes,” Patrick whispered low. 

As soon as the words had left Patrick’s mouth, it was covered by Pete’s lips. Patrick swore he felt stars floating through his whole being as Pete’s lips mouth hungrily against his. Patrick had not done much kissing in his life but he felt like it didn’t even matter, Pete was good enough for the both of them.

Patrick snaked his free hand behind Pete’s waist and Pete smiled against Patrick’s lip before wrapping his hand around Patrick’s cock.

Oh my god. 

Patrick knew for a fact that he wasn't going to last long but he didn't care because the less time he spent with his dick out in a public bathroom the better.

Petes hands were really soft but his grip was firm and he gently squeezed-

“Oh fuck!”

Patrick clenched his eyes closed and whined in protest as Pete took his hand away. Patrick's eyes flew open and he looked at Pete. Pete looked him dead in the eye as he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked it before returning to Patrick's leaking cock. Pete’s saliva mixed in with Patrick's precum making Petes hand glide smoothly as he picked up pace. Patrick tried desperately to stop himself from crying out when Pete’s thumb swirled around Patrick's slit…. And utterly failed. He let out a stuttered cry and bit his lip hard. It was almost too much. It really was too fucking much.

“You ok?”

“Don't fucking stop,” Patrick bit out, feeling his stomach coil. He was so very nearly there. His looked over caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open. Pete's mouth was attached to Patrick's neck and was sucking hard. Patrick felt like his whole skeleton was turning to jelly and with a few more expert flicks of his wrist Pete sent Patrick over the edge.

“FUCK!”

Patrick stuttered out a few small yelps as Pete stroked him gently until his fist was glistening with Patrick's cum, the rest was splattered on the hem of Patrick's jacket.

“Um, you might want to take off your jacket,” Pete murmured as he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped off as much as he could. Patrick eyes came back into focus and as he looked down to survey the mess he let out a load groan of frustration.

“Fuck sake,” Patrick pulled his jacket off and straightened out his shirt. He was going to be cold as hell until he made it back to the car.

Patrick zipped his pants back up and for a brief moment forgot about what had just happened until he turned back around and smacked into Pete. Pete's hand reached out and rested on Patrick's shoulder.

“You ok?”

Patrick stared straight at Pete's face, the events of the past five minutes played in front of his eyes like a low budget porno. 

"I got to go," Patrick said suddenly.

"Patrick, wait-"

But Patrick was already out and down the hall. He walked fast, his folded up and stained jacket in his hand. He almost skipped down the elevator and ended up shoving a few more people aside as he raced for the front doors of the mall. He knew that Tyler and Josh were probably searching for him now and once he was safely inside his car he would call them and let them know he was waiting in the car. 

He just hoped Pete wouldn't follow him out here. He couldn't take off and leave Tyler without a lift home.

Patrick scrambled across the carpark, running across the road and just missing the front of a slow moving sedan that honked at him. He didn't care. Maybe if he got hit by a car right now he wouldn't have to deal with the thoughts going through his head. 

Pete had given him a fucking hand job in a public toilet. Not only that but Patrick had barely fucking kissed a girl in his life and here he was, running to his car, cum stained jacket in his hand after a guy gave him a hand job. 

Talk about leaps and bounds.

Patrick unlocked the car, climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors and pressed his face into his hands.

"Oh god," he groaned, "What have I done?"

Patrick's whole body still felt somewhat jelly like and relaxed and frankly he was amazed he was able to run as fast as he had without his legs betraying him.

Fuck. So basically his whole plan to get Pete to perhaps leave him alone because he was a creep had gone down the drain faster than he ever thought possible. This was something like the aftermath of a Tsunami. 

This was all because he was an idiot and decided that texting Pete had been a good idea. Then his brain betrayed him with that fucking dream and just.... wow, what kind of epic bad luck was this?

Had he murdered children in a past life or something?

Patrick took a deep breath and sent a text to Tyler telling him he'd felt sick and was waiting in the car whenever he was ready to go. He didn't mind waiting around in all honesty. The alone time gave him plenty of time to chastise the hell out of himself because that was obviously where he was headed.

Patrick took a deep breath and his mind wondered to the kiss. Patrick had kissed a girl in third grade on a dare. It was a quick peck on the lips and didn't really count right? He had also kissed Eliza in ninth grade but she only did it because she had spent half of their group project together complaining about how all her friends had boyfriends and she'd never kissed anyone at all. So her and Patrick had walked out the alley between the cafeteria and gym and, after making sure no was watching at all, had pressed their lips together for three seconds. It wasn't anything interesting. It had definitely not done a single thing for Patrick but Eliza seemed happy that she was able to say she'd kissed someone so Patrick figured it hadn't been a total waste.  
Technically, Pete had been Patrick's first real kiss. If you count 'real' as "hey, I actually felt something because of this".

Patrick had very much felt something.

Patrick had also run away.

“Do you even know what you want,” He whispered to himself, resting his forehead on the top of the steering wheel.

His phone buzzed and he wouldn’t have dared look at it if it weren’t for the fact that it could have been Tyler.

Two New Messages.

 _“Ok, hope you’re ok. Won’t be much longer,”_ from Tyler. 

_“Patrick, I’m sorry, I hope you’re ok, please text me to let me know if you’re ok,”_ from Pete.

Patrick opened his iPod and put on the loudest angriest song he could find and played It as loud as he could.

The music was white noise to Patrick's brain, bleaching away the image of Pete's eyes and the way they said “I will consume you whole”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and for continuing to read. I hoped you liked the little bit extra I gave you this chapter. I apologise though because I haven't written any smut in forever so I don't know if it's absolutely terrible or not.  
> Please comment and tell what you think and your predictions for future chapters?


	8. Having a blast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete watches the sunset with a friend and discusses moral dilemmas.  
> Patrick has an unexpected pancake session.

The sky over the top of the buildings was a peachy pink colour, with hues of blue leeching into the bottom as the sun sunk rapidly over the horizon. Pete's breathed in a breath of fresh air as he sprinted effortlessly through the streets. He didn't need a car at all. Cars were amazing, and he never doubted that, but there was something to be said about the freedom of just running.

Pete also knew that running could be a perfect distraction from what felt like the ghost’s hands of his emotions slowly tightening a noose of anxiety around his neck. Or maybe it was a noose of anger... or something more primal.

Patrick had just run away.

There was no way in hell Pete was going to stop him. He knew that it was probably Patrick's first time kissing a guy, let alone getting a hand job. So Pete didn't really blame him for bolting after coming down from his high. At his age, Pete might have done the same thing.

The experience of watching the young human, cry and choke as Pete's fingers pumped as his hard cock made something deep inside of Pete growl. Patrick had been hard because of him. He knew there was no other option. He smelt it the instant it happened in the music store and with no other option Pete's instincts had gotten the better of him.

This boy. This enigma of a damning human... he smelt like heaven, his lips tasted like sin and his blood called to Pete like the dying cries of a ghost child in the wind. Like a Siren. A siren...

Pete shook his head and ran faster. He didn't truly have a real destination in mind as he dodged around corners and through alley ways until he felt himself reach the more derelict and abandoned area of an industrial estate. He was about one mile away from the bag bank. Pete knew there was mostly nothing but rats and a few homeless people in this corner of the city slum.

Pete pulled his black hoodie over his ears and straightened up his tight black skinny jeans as he came to a halt at the bottom of a scaffolded three story building. There was construction tape blocking the entrance which Pete, in all his shortness, easily ducked under. He reached a hand up to the first part of the scaffolding, took a deep breath and shot all the way up to the top of the scaffolding in a matter of seconds. Once he was at the top he simply stepped on to the flat cement rooftop and went and sat over on the edge of the building that faced the horizon. He swung his feet out, once he was sitting and thought idly that if he weren't wearing lace up shoes right now, his shoe could easily slide off and drop three stories to the ground.... and Pete would be forced to go retrieve it.

Pete was glad he wore lace up shoes.

He looked down over the filthy rooftops of the industrial estate and wondered how many people had walked over the patch of ground beneath the building he sat atop of. Hundreds? Perhaps thousands? What if it had been the sight of an indigenous village?

Pete thought of Patrick again and those questions left his mind.

Patricks face, smell, body, mind, noises... It could all be Pete's to enjoy... if he hadn't scared the poor kid off.

_"That shouldn't stop you,"_ said a voice in Pete's head, _"You take what you want."_

Pete shifted uncomfortably on the ledge.

_"He is yours."_

Pete sighed. He knew he shouldn't think like that but this other part of him seemed to be always growling and screaming it in his ear. The part of him that screamed at him to take Patrick and drain him dry seemed to, after much conscious protest on Pete's part, joined the team of _'well ok but he'll be yours forever.'_

Joe had never offered to speak to Pete about the process of turning someone. He knew it wasn't as simple as just biting someone otherwise they would turn everyone they ever fed on.

No, there was something more to it.

"You look like you're thinking of something deep," a light cheery voice interrupted Pete's mind poetry. Pete looked around and saw a familiar smiling face that instantly made his whole body relax.

"Hi Hayley."

Hayley was a short, athletic looking red headed immortal that looked like she could take you out in a boxing ring while wear a fucking evening dress and still come out of it looking divine. Pete somewhat envied her for that because he could neither box nor looking divine in an evening gown... maybe a mini dress though.

Hayley bounced over and sat on the ledge next to Pete, a ruler width between them, sighed and looked out the setting sun with Pete.

"I got to say when I was turned the first thing i thought was, 'ya'll got to be shitting me, I love the sun too much to give it up'. Then i was immediately informed that i had to do no such thing and that belief was a complete myth. I'm so glad it’s just a myth."

Pete looked over at Hayley and watched as the last light of the day seemed to make her fiery hair really catch aflame.

"How are you?"

Hayley laughed, "Pete, you never ask me how i am which means something happened which means you have to tell me."

Pete smiled weakly but kept staring at the sky.

"Is it about your Siren, Patrick?"

Pete nodded and Hayley gasped, "You didn't kill him did you because I have to say I was really banking for him and also I kind of thought you were beginning to really like him and you're not acting sad enough for someone who just killed someone they like."

"He's still alive," Pete spoke clearly, "But, uh, we..."

"Bumped into each other and it was interesting," Hayley predicted. Pete blinked at her in surprise and she waved her hand casually, "It's almost too cliché that i wasn't going to bother guessing that but here we are."

"Err, yeah," Pete said slowly, "Except interesting was an understatement... he got a boner and i ended up giving him a hand job in the mall toilets next to bed, bath and beyond."

Hayley giggled and bit her lip.

"Oh wow, Pete, oh wow. Um, that's certainly something. I thought the kid was scared of you, you said."

"Yeah," Pete's cheeks flushed red as Hayley continued to giggle quietly, "But he fucking got a boner because of me. I tell you it was because of me too because there was no other explanation for it. It had to be for me. And he ran but i followed him and we ended up in the bathroom together and oh my god, Hayley. I won't go into detail but I want to do that with him forever."

"So turn him," Hayley said flippantly, "Then you can."

Pete coughed suddenly and turned to slowly look at Hayley.

"I don't know how to turn someone, my Si- Joe never taught me."

"Oh," said Hayley quietly, her face lost to a blank expression of thought, "Perhaps you should talk to Joe first then. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to do anything too drastic without his help or consent. I mean... he is your Sire even though he has an aversion to the term."

Pete swallowed, "Patrick is seventeen, Hayley. He's really smart too, from what I catch onto he's studying to be a doctor. I can't take away this brilliant life from him? That'd be crueller than anything."

"Yeah, but what about you, Pete," Hayley asked seriously, "What about you and how you'll deal with it?"

"I have my mind, music and the poems in my head always need new fuel for their fire, I suppose," Pete reasoned, smiling weakly.

The two immortals stared out at the last of the sun hid behind the horizon and silky blue of twilight swum over the sky and city. Light started flickering on everywhere and soon the yellow artificial light looked even brighter than the sun.

The two immortals sighed in sync.

“So… how is Joe dealing with these events,” Hayley asked casually.

“He, err…. Doesn’t know. I have not yet told him…”

“Well, um, that’s great,” Hayley bit out, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

“Yeah well he’s gotten really sensitive about humans lately, especially teenagers and it’s because of this stupid job he’s got now. I told him how old the guy was and Joe almost freaked out…. I think. It is hard to tell with Joe sometimes.”

“You said that Joe never talks about his sire, you think that’s why he never told you how to change someone,” Hayley questioned, “Like, has he ever said a single thing to you or has he just shut you out of that part of his life completely.”

“He’ll tell me when he’s ready,” Pete said confidently.

Hayley raised an eyebrow.

“He’ll tell me when he thinks I’m ready,” Pete amended, “Look I’m going to change someone one day, I’m kind of sure of that… he can’t keep it from me forever. I just got to prove to him that I’m able to… I haven’t been doing a very good job of that lately, though.”

“Look,” Hayley started in a way that made Pete know he was in for a speech, “Iike, I know I just said you should turn him… but also, you don’t even have a proper, let alone a healthy relationship with this kid yet. Do you want to turn him just for the sake of being a sire or do you want to turn him because you’re already in love with him… which, might I add, is screwed up because you don’t even know him that well yet? These are the questions you have to ask yourself before you turn someone, Pete. And you have to take the time to truly think about your answers. I mean, hell, you could definitely turn this kid right but you’re gonna spend the rest of eternity having to deal with the resentment from someone who didn’t want it.”

Pete blinked.

“You’re right,” he admitted, “I shouldn’t even be thinking about turning him yet.”

“So you DO love him,” Hayley squealed, grinning like crazy, “I’m happy but also dude, you barely know him.”

“I just feel like I love him now and when I get to know him I’ll just love him more… that’s if I can get him to ever speak to me again.”

“Yeah, the whole hand job thing was really a lapse of judgement on your behalf,” Hayley agreed.

“It was consensual!”

“When a teenager is horny it’s not that hard to get consent,” Hayley reasoned, sounding suspiciously like she had experience in the topic. Pete stared at her for a moment before she shrugged nonchalantly.

“You make me feel like a creep,” Pete grumbled.

“You kind of are, Pete. Sorry,” Hayley replied, laughing, “But like if you’re in love with him, put turning him out of your mind… I mean, heck, the kid doesn’t even know what you are yet. That’s a whole other obstacle to climb first. He could freak out and never want to see you again.”

“You have a point.”

“I know I do,” Hayley continued, “and he hasn’t handled anything else very well yet, has he?”

“No,” Pete said, “This is not going to be very easy… but I have to try.”

“You should talk to Joe about this, he’s your sire as much as he likes to pretend otherwise. It’s his duty to care and look after you,” Hayley said.

Pete sighed, “Yeah, he is my sire, but he’s also my brother too. I just… I just feel like maybe I should wait first.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Hayley shrugged, “anyway, I’m hungry. You coming?”

Pete considered for a moment just going home and having a bag but if he was planning on spending more time around Patrick…. He remembered how much his thirst had screamed at him to bite down when he had sucked on the skin on Patrick’s neck… Patrick probably still had those marks there and one part of Pete growled happily at the thought of Patrick all pretty and marked up…

“Yeah, I got to eat,” Pete replied.

Hayley grinned and shot down the building in a blur, the blur of Pete following quickly after her.

~~

~~

It was after dinner and Patrick lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His biology textbook lay forgotten on his bedside table. Today could have gone better. Today could have gone a million times better. At least Tyler hadn't noticed anything on the ride home and Josh had text him to organise a catch up next weekend. Ok, so that was fine but still…

Patrick wasn't sure what to do. Did he even have to do anything? He didn't know.

“I don't know,” he whispered to the dark room.

Ok so Patrick would be lying if he said it wasn't good. It was good. It was messy, surprising, nerve racking and a little bit awkward but holy shit Patrick kind of loved the whole thing. Maybe that was a thing he liked? The risk of getting caught. The spontaneity…

Maybe he just liked it because it was Pete.

Patrick dragged his fingers down his face and huffed out an angry breath. He was pissed off. He was pissed off at himself. His conscience was screaming that he shouldn't even give Pete the time of the day but then there was the rest to him that told him that Pete felt good, Pete felt right, and Pete was exciting yet also the place where he could feel safest.

So Patrick had obviously lost it if he was thinking that. Pete had not proven himself to be truly any of those things entirely, yet that was what he was feeling. Patrick was feeling those unproven things which meant that obviously he needed to fucking return his sense of self-preservation for a refund.

Pete was like way older than him too. He had to be like twenty two maybe. Patrick was seventeen. This was all technically illegal. Patrick didn't want Pete to go to jail just because Patrick couldn't control an inappropriate boner.

Why was he even thinking about this?

Patrick flipped over onto his stomach and with an angry huff pressed his face into his pillows.

This was not going to be a sex thing. Patrick didn't even think he was ready to have sex yet. If he was going to blatantly ignore the warning bells going off in his head he was going to just start off by getting to know Pete. Hell, Pete could have the worst personality in the whole world. Pete could be a serial killer.

“Do your fucking homework, Patrick,” Patrick hissed at himself. He pulled himself into a sitting position, picked up the biology textbook and began to read through the assigned paragraphs. But honest to god Patrick’s mind would only focus on what it damn well wanted to… which happened to be Pete.

Patrick forced himself to finish reading the paragraph he was on despite the fact he knew he’d have to reread the whole thing later. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it… He placed the textbook back on his side table, picked up his phone and tapped out a message.

_“Sorry I freaked out today. Can we have a clean slate and hang out sometime?”_

Pete, not one to disappoint Patrick’s expectations, replied almost immediately.

_“YES. Are You Busy Now??????”_

Patrick’s eyes locked onto the biology textbook. Well actually, to say Patrick glared at the textbook would have been a severe understatement. Patrick picked up the textbook, opened the top drawer of the side table and shoved the textbook out of sight.

_“Um No.”_

_“I’ll come pick you up right now.”_

Patrick felt like he’d swallowed ice.

_“DON’T PARK IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. Park two houses down. Parents.”_

_“Ok haha. See you in ten.”_

He must live close. Patrick paused for a moment trying to imagine what kind of Pete would live in. Probably like a loft apartment or something. It wouldn’t be anything fancy but it would suit Pete to a tee. He probably had exposed brick walls and makeshift bookshelves made from old cinder blocks and pieces of timber…

“He’s not Kurt Cobain, oh my god,” Patrick whispered to himself as he pulled his shoes back on and donned a jacket over the top of his hoodie. The night were getting colder and Patrick honestly didn’t feel like getting frostbite.

God, he sounded like his mother.

Patrick wrote a note just in case his parents decided to check his room and subsequently freak out. It was simple, and he knew very well they’d still get mad and call him but at least they wouldn’t worry he’d been kidnapped.

_‘Gone to Tyler’s, be back home later tonight.’_

Patrick grabbed his phone, iPod, wallet and house keys, stashed them in various pockets of his multi layers and quietly slipped downstairs and out the back door. Once he was outside the chill of the night smacked him hard in the face. He squinted as he slowly and quietly navigated the dark backyard and managed to make it down the side of the house without running into anything. Once he was in the driveway of the house he paused and looked back, the flickering TV light filtering through the curtains of the living room. His parents were still immersed in their late night programming and hopefully wouldn’t check on him before they went to bed.

Patrick finally made it to the street and sat on the curb, two houses down and waited. He wasn’t even sure what car he was looking for. Patrick needn’t have worried though because the bright headlights of the speedily approaching car didn’t even allow Patrick a look at it before it pulled up, accurate to the centimetre, to where he was sitting.

The engine purred loudly as the window wound down, and even though all Patrick could see in the darkness was a blur of black he could tell it was a damn nice car.

“Hop in, dude,” Pete called. Patrick fumbled to his feet, pulled the door open and fell onto the leather seat interior. It was comfy inside the car, the heater was on and Patrick let out a misty breath as he did up his seatbelt. Patrick stared at the dash as Pete pulled the steering wheel, winding quickly the dark quiet streets of Patrick’s suburb until they hit the exit to the highway.

“So where are we going,” Patrick asked, finally finding the guts to pull his gaze away from the misty yellow lights of the highway and onto Pete.

Pete.

Pete’s hair was his usual iron flat, in front of the eyes do… except now it was more dishevelled and choppy like his hair had been ruffled up at one point and Pete had just left it like that. He wore dark jeans, and a leather jacket over a black hoodie. Pete had always been somewhat intimidating to Patrick even through everything…. But now it seemed like Pete was seeping power and strength… like those guys you saw at the gym who spent too much time checking their form in the mirror. The bigger the muscles got, the bigger the ego. But they really were strong and you knew that when it came to it, they would kick your ass.

Patrick swallowed and Pete turned to look at him and maybe finally answer Patrick’s question.

“I haven’t decided yet, I was just going downtown.”

“Please keep your eyes on the road,” Patrick cried. Pete just flicked his eyes back to the front and grinned widely.

“Sorry. Didn’t meant to scare you…. Hey, plug your iPod in.”

Patrick was trying so hard to concentrate on his breathing that it took him five seconds to process what Pete had said.

“Um, really, you sure-”

“Half of what is on there I gave you and anyway, I reckon I can trust your music taste.”

Patrick smirked.

“If you say so.”

Patrick waited for the opening guitar riff of the song and instantly started smirking.

“Oh my god, I love this song, oh man the lead singer… it’s tragic, you know? He was so talented and deep and amazing… but he couldn’t handle it. I remember meeting-”

Pete coughed suddenly and violently, causing Patrick to jump in his seat, “Sorry about that, anyway I remembered meeting the drummer, you know who I mean? Yeah he’s got his own band now and they’re huge and like they’re never going to top this but they’re still pretty good. I met him at his concert once and he was so chill.”

Patrick opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t. That sounded cool. That sounded so cool.

“How many concerts have you been to, Pete.”

“Say my name again,” Pete replied.

“Um no, why,” Patrick furrowed his eyebrows.

“Never mind, um, concerts… a shitload. Spent my whole life just going to as many concerts as I could.”

“I can’t wait until My Chem tour here,” Patrick said, bouncing in his seat at the thought, “I’m just gonna be like ‘holy crap’ because they’re so good.”

Pete grinned again, his eyes crinkled at the sides when he did that and Patrick felt himself mirror the grin.

 Patrick suddenly took notice of his surroundings when the car slowed down and pulled into a park. They were at an IHOP in what looked like downtown Chicago. Patrick turned to Pete and raised an eyebrow.

“Why IHOP?”

“Pancakes?”

“IHOP make other things besides pancakes,” Patrick replied, sighing as he undid his seat belt.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Pete replied, clicking his keys and listening to the shutter sound of the car locking.

Patrick let out a small smile and began walking towards the front entrance, a moment later he felt the very close presence of Pete right behind him. In fact he was walking so close behind him that Patrick was sure that if he were to suddenly stop Pete would smack right into him.

And that was exactly what happened when Patrick paused to open the door to the building. Patrick felt Pete smack right into the back of him and almost knock Patrick clean over through the door. Pete grabbed the back of Patrick hoodie and yanked him back into a standing position before his face became intimate with the linoleum.

“Holy shit,” Patrick gasped, his cheeks burning red, taking a moment to reacquaint his feet with solid ground, “You’re solid man. I felt like I had a brick wall smack into me.”

“Are you hurt,” Pete enquired, his hands ghosting over Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick shivered and took a step further through the door.

“I’m fine, I’m standing. But now I definitely need some pancakes.”

Pete and Patrick grabbed a booth in the far corner of the store, the yellow fluorescent lighting made Patrick feel like it was far later into the night that he thought.

“I have never eaten IHOP at this time of night,” Patrick admitted as he looked over the menu. He didn’t feel like he was hungry until he started looking at all the options available. The waitress came over and asked for their orders and even though Patrick knew he would regret it when he tried to go to sleep tonight, he ordered coffee… and also a serve of blueberry pancakes. Pete ordered exactly the same except he also ordered the chicken strips and fries. Patrick raised an eyebrow as the waitress walked away.

“Judge not lest ye be judged,” Pete said sagely, “I’m hungry, ok.”

Patrick leaned back in the booth and took a sip of the coffee the waitress delivered to the table.

“So,” Patrick began, watching in absent horror as Pete added six sugars to his coffee, “How old are you.”

Pete paused stirring and looked up blankly at Patrick.

“Um, twenty five I think,” Pete said, taking a sip of his coffee. He grimaced and added another sugar.

“What the fu- How can you- what do you mean, you think?”

Pete shrugged, “It’s not really important to me, I guess.”

Patrick shook his head in defeat, “Ok then. It may not be important to you but I may want to remind you that what we did was illegal as I am not eighteen until April.”

Pete quietly clasped his hands on the table and stared blankly into his coffee cup, “I am acutely aware of that, thanks. I realise it was a stupid risk to take and obviously it will not happen again-”

“Wait, wait,” Patrick said, holding up a hand, “Look I am not sure how I feel about everything ok. But… I want to get to know you ok. I don’t know but I can’t get you out of my head and just maybe that might mean something. I’m not sure. But like, who am I to like question that plus I’m not gonna lie and say I disliked what happened but just… I just want to like be friends first ok. I want to be your friend, Pete… but I swear to god if you add another sugar to your freaking coffee I am out of here.”

Pete bit his lip and pushed his coffee away, “Hey, miss? Can I get orange juice please?”

Patrick let out a laugh, “Why the hell did you get a cup of coffee in the first place?”

“It was there so I just tried it and didn’t remember until I did why I never drink it,” Pete admitted, “Juice is good though.”

The waitress came back with juice and their food.

“Shit yeah,” Pete whispered, before picking up a chicken strip and eating it in one bite.

Patrick took a bite of his pancakes and was really glad that Pete had brought him here. He hadn’t been hungry but pancakes were fucking pancakes. Pancakes were also good thinking food.

“So… whereabouts do you live,” Patrick questioned.

“Not far from you, maybe only half a suburb over,” Pete replied, “I might take you there one day. I live with my brother.”

“Oh, are you from Chicago originally? Like do your parents live here?”

Pete swallowed the mouthful of food he’d hastily shoved in his mouth and took a gulp of juice before answering.

“I’m from Wilmette, actually,” Pete replied, “Nice little place, have been there in years though. My parents died a while back and I haven’t gone back since then.”

“Oh,” Patrick replied awkwardly, “Oh, man. I’m sorry. Wow that must have been hard you being so young. Um, wow.”

Pete shrugged and sighed deeply, his face serious, “Um yeah… It’s not like it doesn’t suck but like don’t apologise man. I’ve had a lot of time to process and think about it. I can talk about it now. Like please don’t think I’m like emotionless or anything I just… I’m collected on that subject.”

Patrick stared at Pete for a moment before realising what he was doing. He picked up his coffee, took a sip and tried to look anywhere but in his direction. Jesus, that was something else... He was all calm and collected about it like it'd happened decades ago and not years. Patrick couldn't understand it at all. Maybe Pete never had a good relationship with his parents or something like that. Patrick couldn't speak for his father. That was something his brain could not even begin to approach with going into shut down mode, but his mother... Oh man, Patrick couldn't even begin to imagine what he would do without his mother. His mother was everything and he knew objectively that one day he would have to deal with the loss of her but that wouldn't be for many years to come yet. He just knew that no matter how schooled he might be with his thoughts he would never be able to recover from his mothers death as quickly as Pete seemed to have done so.

"Do you have any siblings then besides your brother here," Patrick questioned.

"Yeah, but they're all married with kids and basically have no time for poor old me anymore," Pete grimaced, "Not that I don't love my nieces and nephews I just haven’t seen them in years."

Patrick nodded. That was something he could definitely not connect to Pete with. Patrick was an only child and the closest he'd ever come to a sibling was one summer when his cousin Logan had come to stay with them from Ohio. They got along well but summer had ended, Logan had returned home and Patrick didn't see him again for two years after that.

What could they connect on?

"So can I can ask are you like Gay, or," Pete asked, before swallowing another mouthful of pancakes.

"Um," Patrick replied, oh god that was an interesting question, "truth be told I never put heaps of thought into it, i kind of just liked who i liked though i do have to say I never really had many thoughts about guys until... well... you, I guess."

Pete grinned, he had a drop of syrup on his lip and Patrick really wanted to reach over and lick it off.

"So I made you gay then," Pete giggled.

"Oh my god, Pete, that's not how it works and you know it," Patrick shot.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"What about you," Patrick replied, "Are you gay?"

"Well," Pete said slowly, stretching his hands high into the air and slumping down in his seat a little, "I'm definitely bisexual. Like hells yeah chicks are awesome but guys are too? I can’t settle on just one gender, you know. I like them both. I've had some long relationships with girls though, mostly only had flings with guys."

"How long was your longest relationship," Patrick queried.

"Five years," Pete announced proudly, "She was beautiful and her name was Meagan. We met when she was eighteen and I was twenty. And I was with her until... well quite recently I suppose."

"Oh," Patrick replied, his eyebrows furrowing. So Pete had only just got out of a relationship with a girl who was nearly Pete's own age and here he was wanting a relationship with Patrick. What did Patrick have that could be enticing after a five year long relationship with a girl that seemed to still put a sparkle in Pete's eye.

"Yeah, but that's over and I'm moving on," Pete assured before starting to shovel food into his mouth again.

Patrick frowned. Pete seemed very flippant over his losses and past relationships to a point where Patrick was almost definitely sure he was faking the whole lot. There was no way in hell Pete could not still be drowning in emotions from that sort of stuff.

Great, Patrick thought, Pete was obviously an emotional basket case who stuffed stuff down to the bottle of the barrel and did repression professionally. That was a great choice in a boyfriend. Patrick shook his head. What had he gotten himself into?

It didn't really matter now, he thought, there’s no way I'm leaving now.

Patrick sighed and drained the last of his coffee.

"You seem to have shit under control then," Patrick said, trying to sound like he believed a word of what Pete had said.

"Well, I try really hard," Pete admitted, "And most of the time it works and I'm ok. It’s like anyone going through bad things, I reckon. My brother helps me a lot. He's my rock and sometimes the person i need to knock me back into my place, you know?"

"I'd like to meet him one day," Patrick said earnestly, because honest to god anyone that could handle Pete when he was spirally kind of sounded like a saint.

"Yeah, of course you can. He's great with people and I reckon he'd love you," Pete replied, excitedly. His pancakes were finished and he began eyeing off the food on Patrick's plate. Patrick sighed, sliced a pancake in half and pushed it onto Pete's empty plate. Pete grinned and devoured it almost instantly.

"Thanks Trick... is it alright if I call you Trick? I like the name, it's kind of cute just like you."

Patrick's cheeks flushed red and his chest felt tight. If he could sink beneath the floor into hell right he'd probably be less embarrassed. Instead he just blushed and nodded like an idiot.

Pete looked right at him for a moment before he grinned open mouth and giggled.

Patrick couldn't help but return the grin, just as wide. His emotions had completely hijacked his facial muscles... rude.

"So this pancakes idea was definitely great," Pete said as they paid their tab and made to leave, "We definitely need to do this regularly."

Patrick frowned, "Yeah but like, we got to do other things besides go places to eat otherwise if you keep feeding me pancakes I'll be able to float across Lake Michigan before I get old.

Pete grinned and unlocked the car. Patrick climbed into the seat beside him and before Pete took off his clicked through Patrick’s iPod and put the Bullet’s album on again.

_"and we'll celebrate the end of the things, with cheap... champagne,"_ Patrick sang quietly as they drove through the twinkling streetlights, business fronts, bars and city houses. Patrick knew that there was another side to this city that emerged this late at night. It was beautiful, secret and something almost indescribable. It intrigued and scared Patrick all in one fair swoop.

"You're a good singer," Pete said quietly, "You're really fucking good. I should let Gerard know how good you are, maybe you could do a duet or something."

"Oh wow, um, perhaps not, I can't really sing that good. I couldn't do it with Gerard. Meeting him is going to be overwhelming enough," Patrick stuttered, "Seriously, meeting him is going to be so amazing. Mikey, Frank and Ray too... Ray is so talented, you said he composed a lot of the guitar for the album."

"Most of it, actually," Pete replied, "Do you play any instruments then?"

Patrick's eyes shone, "I'm not supposed to but I'm learning guitar."

"What do you mean, you're not supposed to," Pete demanded, frowning.

"Well... um..." Patrick suddenly felt a giant lump in his throat, "My Dad says it distracts from my studies. He pulled me out of my previous school because my careers counsellor wouldn't let up insisting he let me take music."

Pete blinked, eyes still focused on the road. The car was silent for a very long moment before Patrick heard Pete let out a loud sigh.

"That's ridiculous," He whispered, _"Fucking ridiculous."_

"Yeah," Patrick agreed quietly, "But my friend Tyler invited me to learn at lunch times and one of my teachers is going to tutor me. I've just got to make sure my grades stay up so my Dad doesn't learn anything."

Patrick felt like now the floodgates were open he wouldn't be able to stop.

"You've got a shitload of weight on your shoulders, Trick," Pete said concerned, "I'd hate for it to drown you."

"I know how to swim with those expectations," Patrick reassured, "You learn that long ago with a father like mine. You know, I’m not going to be a doctor. Not that I'm not going to try but I can feel it in my heart, you know?"

Pete nodded.

"That's not me," Patrick whispered, watching as rain began to slowly fall onto the windscreen, "That's not me at all. I want something different and I'm too afraid to say that to him because I know he'll never accept it."

Patrick's chest heaved slightly and he took a deep breath in response. He looked over at Pete and saw that Pete was looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

Pete pulled the steering wheel and pulled over to the side of the road in front of a 24/7 supermarket. He did not get out of the car. Instead He sat still, staring through the front windscreen. Patrick could have sworn he had turned to stone if it weren't for the small movement of his chest as he took deep breaths. His face was melancholy and guilt bubbled up inside Patrick's stomach.

"I'm sorry, I'm depressing you. We're meant to get to know each other and I'm just telling you to feel sorry for me," Patrick bit his lip, his eyes stung, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no," Pete cried, leaning over and pulling Patrick completely out of his seat and over until he sitting entirely in Pete's lap. Before Patrick could protest or make any sense of the current events Pete pulled him tight against his chest and hugged so tight Patrick felt like he was being laminated onto Pete.

Patrick didn't mind though. Pete held him tight and Patrick felt like he melting in the older guy in a way that made him want to instantly go to sleep. He felt the tension in his chest and shoulders slowly seep away and soon Patrick was completely limp in the hug, his arms wrapped around Pete's waist and his face pressed into Pete's shoulder.

Pete pressed a small kiss to Patrick's shoulder.

"You're going to fucking get through this. You're going to graduate, ok. And you're going to go to a college far fucking away from your douchebag of a father and you're going to play music and be happy."

Patrick nodded into Pete's shoulder and for the first time ever he didn't feel a shred of anxiety in Pete's presence.

What was it about Pete that made Patrick believe every single word he told him?

Patrick stayed in Pete's arm for another few minutes until he felt his phone vibrate. He untangled himself from Pete and climbed back into his seat reluctantly before checking the message.

_"It's getting late and you and Tyler both have school tomorrow. Please come home soon."_

Patrick was glad his mum was like she was because honestly he knew he would not have such a passive reaction if his Dad had been the one to discover the note he'd left. He smiled and tapped out a message.

_"Be home in five, I'll let myself in."_

"I gotta get home," Patrick said sadly, "School and stuff tomorrow and my Mum is worried."

"You left her a note, yeah," Pete asked.

"Yeah, of course. Except I told her I was at Tyler’s. I don't know whether she believes me but i feel like she trusts my judgement enough to not question it."

"That's good," Pete replied, pulling into the street that connected onto Patrick's road, "You should never ever do anything to make her question that. It's always good to have your parents trust your judgement."

"Maybe one day, even Dad will," Patrick added quietly.

Pete pulled up three houses down from Patrick's house and Patrick was silently grateful he had remembered. As Patrick undid his seatbelt Pete sat in silence.

"Thank you for the pancakes and talk and stuff," Patrick said, before opening the door, "We need to do this again soon."

Pete smiled, "Don't be a stranger Trick. You're my friend. No escaping now."

Patrick climbed out of the car with a smile on his face. He was Pete's friend now. He reckoned he could handle that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my lovely readers,
> 
> I just want to take a line to say a HUGE thankyou to all those who commented on the previous chapter. I'm adoring your feedback and it's honestly my favourite part of posting this story is reading your comments.
> 
> So this chapter I adore because we meet the lovely Hayley. Also Pete and Patrick have their first (sort of) date/chat/interview.
> 
> Things are only going to get more awesome from here (hopefully). Comment and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear theories.


	9. March #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe has a long overdue conversation with Brendon and then meets Patrick's parents.  
> Patrick and Tyler reflect on their love lives together.

Joe walked down the path at a fast past, his gait tall and confident. His eyes were almost glowing as his face set into an emotionless stare.

Brendon was in the music room, tidying up from the last lesson of the day. He lingered longer than usual to the point that Joe assumed that Brendon was waiting for him.

Joe reached the door and pulled the door open without knocking. Brendon's uncovered scent washed over his senses an before he could do anything Brendon called out from where he was sitting behind desk in the far corner of the room.

“Let's discuss this like reasonable men, shall we, Joe?”

Joe paused and took a deep breath.

“Ryan talked then.”

“Took a lot of convincing, the poor guy was scared to death. Seemed convinced that if he talked you'd kill him,” Brendon said casually, as if he were mentioning the state of the weather.

Joe shrugged, “I wasn't gonna kill him, but he wouldn't talk.”

Brendon frowned, “look I have my reasons for hiding from you ok. But don't for a second think that it's ok to bring Ryan into this. He knows nothing and I promise that if you touch a hair on his head again I'll-”

Joe was suddenly leaning right over Brendon's desk. His eyes glowed bright red.

“I'm older and stronger than you, Urie. Now, I have no intentions to harm you or Ross, though I have to wonder how you're going to control yourself to turn him since you've already fed on him,” Joe hissed.

Brendon glared up at Joe.

“That was a lapse of judgement, not control and our relationship and my intentions are none of your goddamn business. See, this is why I hid my scent,” Brendon growled, “Every other goddamn immortal within a ten mile radius thinks they can get up in your business, coven or fucking not.”

“Coven,” Joe said slowly, “You don't belong to a coven?”

“I freelance,” Brendon said casually, “I'm not interested in the high school clique bullshit. It's just me and soon it'll be Ryan and me. In the meantime I do casual jobs for others to earn myself a little pocket money on top of the salary here.”

Joe’s eyes went back to normal and he sat down in the chair across from Brendon. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“What job are you doing here,” Joe questioned, casually. Picking at his fingers in disinterest.

“I can't disclose tha-”

In a matter of seconds Joe had hurdled the desk, ripped Brendon from his chair and slammed him hard on to the linoleum floor. There were several cracking sounds and Brendon let out a loud groan before coughing and spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

“You maybe want to reconsider that, friend,” Joe said calmly. Brendon struggling as Joe pinned him by the throat to the floor. 

“Your sire-”

Joe let go of Brendon and was half way across the room in a second, fixing Brendon with a wary glare, his torso half turned to flee at a moment’s notice.

“What about him,” Joe demanded sharply.

“He sent me here to keep an eye on you,” Brendon coughed, pulling himself to his feet and prodding his ribs with his fingers.

He winced sharply, stretched back and coughed again, a loud popping noise coming from somewhere inside Brendon's body,

“That fucking hurt, by the way.”

“You can get your apologies from him, he's the idiot who couldn't help himself,” Joe cried, “Jesus Christ, What is he thinking.”

Brendon straightened out his shirt, his ribs seemingly completely healed. He coughed twice more before speaking again.

“In his defence, he seemed concerned. He worries about you.”

Joe gritted his teeth, “that's why we organised this plan in the first place. We didn't make all these sacrifices in order for him to ruin it all.”

Brendon stared at him.

“Look I don't know you're whole story but-”

“Sixty years,” Joe said, “sixty years we’ve been apart since I turned Pete and we were safe! Just as Andy and I planned. We were safe and now it could all be for nothing if Andy can't control himself.”

“You guys love each other,” Brendon said slowly, “but you separated to keep each other safe, why?”

“Bigger, badder things that you're safer off not knowing about,” Joe replied darkly, “you tell Andy that he needs to back off otherwise the past sixty years will have been for nothing.”

Brendon nodded quickly and disappeared from the room. Joe let out a breath, sat down on the floor of the classroom and let out a quiet sob. It was all fresh again. Fucking fresh and fucking painful. Brendon had taken a figurative lemon and squeezed the juice into the wound.

“Jesus Christ,” Joe hissed, wiping a hand across his face. He saw his eyes glowing black in the reflection of the metal chair leg.

Joe closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He did not need anyone seeing his black eyes right now. That would be the least of his worries…

A buzzing sound came from Joe’s pocket. He reached in and pulled out his phone to see a reminder light up on his screen.

“Mr and Mrs Stump – 4:45”

Joe had fifteen minutes to compose himself before he’d have to act like he hadn’t just opened the floodgate to sixty years of emotions.

Joe exited the music room, locked the door behind him and sped off to the staffroom to grab a coffee. It was generally open until about 5:30 for various after school activities, teachers working later and parent meetings… Joe however was meeting Patrick’s parents in his own classroom. But he wouldn’t be able to do it without caffeine in him. 

Joe made his way back to his office, coffee in hand and mentally going over the list of things he'd prepared to bring up at the meeting. He knew that essentially this was going to be a delicate affair. From Patrick's description it sounded as if his Father could be volatile if he thought for a moment something wasn't conductive to Patrick's studies.

Joe sighed as he sat down and took a sip of coffee. He pulled out the printed list of dot points but they all seemed to blur into a milkshake of black ink. 

Patrick was relying on Joe here and all Joe could think about was how he really should try to stop thinking about Andy. He pushed the thoughts from his brain and locked them back down underneath the mental trap door he had kept them under for the last three decades.

He wasn't going to let his emotions get in the way of helping Patrick.

Joe laughed out loud. He thought this whole gig was going to be relatively stress free. Like, ok, he accepted it wouldn't be completely stress free, he was teaching teenagers for goodness sake, but Joe hadn't expected it to quite be like this. He'd avoided his phone all day knowing that Pete's constant texting would likely distract him from the focus he needed for this meeting but he needed a brief distraction.

"Joe, dude. Gabe's invoice arrived. Do you want to login and transfer the money?"

Joe kept reading through the various messages after that.

"It's ok, I already did it."

"Gabe called, said thanks and also that he wants to hang out sometime soon. Said he would send you an email."

Joe continued to scroll.

"Ok, so, like... when you come home tonight we need to chuck on star wars and talk dude. Maybe eat someone too, we have a lot to catch up on."

Joe giggled at the 'eat someone' bit and he wasn't even sure exactly why. He shouldn't be laughing at that-

There was a tapping on the door to the classroom. Joe fumbled with his phone, turned it on silent and shoved it in his pocket before he rushed over at the most human speed he could manage. He cleared his throat and pulled the door open with his 'welcome students!' smile which people seemed to love.

"Hi guys, please come in and take a seat," Joe gestured at the two seats he'd set up on the front side of his desk. He shook Mr Stump’s hand.

"Nice to meet you Mr Trohman, please call me Dave," Dave added, grinning like he was just about to settle a business deal. Some people just didn't have an off switch for their work mode. Dave was even still dressed in black dress pants, a blue check business shirt and was still carrying a work briefcase. His receding blonde hair was slicked back neatly with a small tuft having obviously escaped during the day.

"Sure, no problem, please call me Joe, then," Joe replied, before turned and smiling politely at Patrick's mother. 

"Hi, I'm Patricia," she said shyly. She wore a blue denim pinafore dress over the top of cream coloured cotton long sleeved shirt. Her blonde hair was tied back in a low ponytail and she carried a brown leather low slung handbag that rattled when she walked.

"So Patrick has told us a lot about you," Dave began.

"All good, I hope," Joe laughed. He wasn't going to let any tension ruin this.

"Of course," Patricia spoke up enthusiastically, "Patrick loves your class. He has always been good in English but he's excelled extremely since starting in your class."

"What my wife is trying to say is, Patrick excels generally no matter what. But we feel like you have been an incredibly positive influence on our son which is a refreshing experience for once, let me tell you," Dave laughed. Joe felt a little disgusted but kept that buried deep down, "So when he said that you had suggested extra tutoring to get his grades up then of course we were on board. I only have a few questions..."

"Of course," Joe replied, "Go ahead."

"Well first of all, where is the tutoring going to take place because he may become distracted and this would all be for waist if it were around other kids..."

"I have been talking to Principal Gobin and seeing as I live only with my younger brother, I suggested my own home as Patrick tells me we live close together," Joe replied.

"Isn't that... a little unorthodox," Patricia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Initially, I thought so too but having looked at it and ensured that it's registered with the school I've been told that it's perfectly ok... that is, if you are also ok with it," Joe added, only half of that was a lie but the game was if they somehow managed to pick up on it, how would they know specifically what part it would be?

Dave and Patricia looked at each for a moment and Joe could practically hear the unspoken conversation taking place between them.

"If Patrick is safe, studying and undistracted that I will consent to this," Dave replied. Joe glanced in Patricia's direction and could see she didn't entirely agree. Joe didn't blame her but he could also tell who called the shots in that relationship. 

He felt kind of sorry for Patricia, in all honesty.

"Ok, well I've already got some study plans drawn up," Joe said, hand them copies of the plans he'd spent the last few days on, "Patrick seems keen to get started straight away and I follow his sentiment. I was thinking maybe start off with one night a week and once we have finished our tutoring I am more than willing to drive him home afterwards."

Joe told the couple his address and they nodded in recognition. He knew he'd bought a house in the right suburb.

"Well this seems all in order then," Dave said cheerfully, "Patrick starts tomorrow then, if that suits. You did say you were keen."

"I am," Joe replied, "Patrick will come by my house straight after school and we'll figure out how much and for how long he wants to study. We’ll negotiate the study plan and goals from there. Any other concerns?"

"Well, not really a concern per say..." Dave began in a way that Joe knew he was going to instantly regret listening to, "Keep us updated on what he talks about and does, ok? He's just so easily distracted. He had these wild fantasy ideas and they're only distracting and unhelpful towards his goals. I'd like to know of anything concerning, please."

Joe nodded, putting on what he felt was his best adult face. He hoped it didn't mash into his 'i'm going to kill you' face which would not help his or Patrick's case one tiny bit.

The face he pulled seemed to be sufficient because Dave smiled and held out his hand to shake it again. 

"Well, as long we stay updated then i can't think of anything else to add. Thank you for showing such an interest and believing in our boy, "Dave said fondly. Joe felt annoyance bubble up in his stomach and he squashed that down with the image of Patrick's face when he played the guitar. This was for the kid. You could do it for him.

"Nice chatting to you today," Patricia said quietly, reaching out to shake Joe's hand herself. She shook firmly and as she pulled her hand away Joe felt a piece of paper be deposited into his palm. He squeezed his palm tightly shut and slipped his hand into his pocket.

"Nice to meet you both," He said as they left the room. He waited a whole two minutes before he ran up and locked the door behind them. He then slumped back down at his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The paper was still in his pocket. He reached for it, pulled it out and unrumpled it fastidiously.

In small scripted writing it read "here is my phone number. Please text me about anything to do with Patrick. I love my husband but he does not understand our son."

Dave had no freaking idea about his own son and that was so sad. Joe sighed and just knew he was doing the right thing here. Patrick had said himself, he definitely didn't want to be a doctor and there was only one way he could escape that fate.

Get the grades, escape to college far away and then either drop out of switch courses.

Patrick had a hell of a ride in front of him. Joe just hoped he was helping to make it minutely easier in some way.

 

~~  
~~

 

Patrick heard an alarm and without even opening his eyes properly he pulled himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed. He was tired but he was on autopilot. After the Saturday night he'd had with Pete and the weekend he'd spent dreaming about it he'd trudged through Monday with a severe case of Zombification. He couldn't even manage to be outwardly excited over the facts that Patrick's parents had talked to Joe about the tutoring.

Except now, even in his tiredness, he felt excitement zing through his body as he remembered his parents returning home last night confirming that not only was he starting but he was starting tomorrow!

Patrick's eyes were fully open in another ten minutes thanks to the warm, subtle awakening of the hot shower on his skin.

"Fucking today," he whispered, "Today is it."

He towel dried his hair and got dressed in such a rush that when he got down the kitchen his mother informed him his school shirt was inside out. Scowling he ripped his shirt off and turned the right way out as he mother poured juice.

"Do you think this will improve your grades with other subjects too," Patricia asked casually, "Is not English a core skill that can be transferred over to other subjects?"

"Yeah," Patrick said thoughtfully, "Maybe it'll help me with my biology reading because that stuff takes me a while to process."

"Baby, I want to know if this extra tutoring gets too much ok," his Mom whispered quietly, sitting down next to her son with a mug of coffee, "You don't have to tell your father, you can tell me. And if you don't want to tell me you can tell Mr Trohman.

He seems like a really nice man and I think you can trust him with that."

Patrick nodded, placing his spoon down and reaching over to hug his mother tight.

"Thanks Mom, I love you."

"I love you too, baby. Never forget it," Patricia pulled away smiling down at Patrick. Patrick smiled back quickly before returning to his food.

"Can I take your car today," Patrick questioned.

"No," Patricia replied, "Because Mr Trohman has agree to drive your home on the days of tutoring so I'll drop you off today."

"Ok, Thanks Mom."

Patrick's phone buzzed.

"Brother's busy tonight and I'm not allowed to be in the house for some reason. You want to hang out?"

Patrick smirked down at the text.

"I'm busy too sorry, but tomorrow after school we could hang."

"Damn, ok. And yeah, tomorrow sounds great. Going to miss you till then, Trick."

Patrick grinned down at the several nonsical emoji’s Pete added to the end of his text... none of which aligned with the message at all but that was kind of very much Pete's style.

"Going to miss you too."

Patrick's heart skipped a beat as he waited for a reply. 

Pete replied with a single smiley face. 

Patrick's face mimicked it and he quickly stood up, grabbing his backpack and walking towards the front door. He so did not need his mother to see him smiling down at his phone and making wild (but probably accurate) assumptions.

“I’ll be in the car, Mom,” Patrick called.

“I’ve unlocked it,” she replied. Patrick smiled remembering the fun his Mom had, had the day Dad had come home from getting Mom’s car serviced and announced he’d installed remote locking. Mom had spent the next week clicking the remote randomly to the point where Patrick could see his Dad almost regretted it… almost.

“I’ve decided what we’re doing tomorrow night,” Pete texted.

“Awesome. What is it?”

“I can’t tell you, that’d ruin the surprise,” Pete sent back.

Patrick gripped his phone, he was really bad at waiting for surprises and he could only imagine what kind of crazy surprise Pete would come up with. Patrick really hoped it wouldn’t be illegal or anything.

Patrick’s Mother climbed into the car and Patrick tucked his phone deep in his school bag as she pulled out of the driveway.

“So you’re to meet Mr Trohman at his classroom at the end of the day-”

“Mom, I have his class right before lunch, I think he’ll probably talk to me about it.”

“Ok, sweetie. Just making sure and everything,” Patricia said, her eyes staying firmly on the road.

Patrick smiled as they got to the school parking lot and he saw Tyler being dropped off by his parents as well. He bid goodbye to his mother, who pulled him into a hug and kissed his head before he could escape from the car, and ran over to his friend.

"So I have something to tell you," Both boys said excitedly at each other.

Tyler and Patrick giggled at each other.

"Ok, so you first then," Patrick said, eyes still wide with excitement as he waited for Tyler to dish.

"Your friend Josh is amazing," Tyler gushed, "We like texted all night Saturday after we left the mall, it was great! Then we caught up again on Sunday at the park and we went to his house and he showed me his drum set... he's really talented, but you probably already now that."

Patrick smiled. He did remember how good Josh was on drums. Josh had actually let him muck around on his drum set quite a few times and after the guitar he was no learning, Patrick liked drums second best.

"Yeah, Josh is a legend on the drums. He's great, isn't he. He was the only reason that leaving my old school was so hard,"

Patrick admitted, "So it's actually kind of really cool that you two are friends now, then."

"Well actually..." Tyler whispered, as they entered the building and walked up to Patrick's locker, "Josh and me... kinda kissed on Sunday."

Patrick grip on his backpack failed and he fumbled with it before almost half falling into his locker in an attempt to catch it.

"Oh dude, I'm sorry," Tyler cried, "I didn't meant to make you mad or anything, I just-"

"No, no, it's fine," Patrick replied back, "No don't worry, I was just surprised is all."

"Oh," said Tyler, "Ok, good. Well Josh asked me to be his boyfriend."

"So, you’re Gay then," Patrick whispered, eyes trained on the people standing closest to them.

Tyler lifted up both hands and shrugged, "I don't know really what I call myself. Until last week I really liked Jenna Black in junior year but I don't know... Josh is something else. Like sure if you wanna call me Gay that's fine i guess but I know i still like girls too. Maybe I'm Bisexual.”

"No, dude, I'm sorry about that way I said that," Patrick added hastily, "I didn't mean it in any bad way, I was just asking. I'm happy for you dude."

Tyler grinned, "It's all cool man. Like I know Josh is your friend and all but we made out on Sunday a whole lot and it was awesome-"

"You met him Saturday and you're making out with him on Sunday," Patrick stuttered, "Isn't that a bit fast?"

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows, "Well maybe but... it felt right I guess? I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"I think it's-"

Patrick Stump, you fucking hypocrite.

Patrick paused. His brain was right. He was a hypocrite. He was worse than a hypocrite. He didn't just make out with someone he didn't know, they gave him a hand job. Tyler and Josh had just made out a little and then Josh had instantly asked him to be his boyfriend.

"- fine then, if you're ok with it. I'm happy dude."

Tyler grinned, "And what was your news?"

Patrick sighed, "It's a little long winded so… do you have study up first."

"Sure do," Tyler grinned, "Let's go somewhere a bit easier to talk."

 

~~

 

So when Tyler said that he knew of somewhere easier to talk, Patrick hadn't imagined climbing up onto the cafeteria roof... something that was surprisingly far easier to do than Patrick had ever imagined. The cafeteria was right below the second story study hall and the cafeteria was only single story. You climbed out the fire exit near the stairwell and climb over the railing a little... and there was Patrick, standing on cement rooftop feeling sort of like he could drop to his stomach and kiss the ground.

"I can't believe you made me do this," Patrick groaned as they leaned against a water tank in the middle of the roof, "We're going to get in so much trouble.

"Nah," said Tyler, "You can't see this side of the roof from the study hall because of the water tanks and it's too far away from the other two story buildings to see anything either."

Patrick shook his head and took out his textbook, if he was breaking the rules he might as well get some work done to make up for it.

"Anyways," Tyler added, "I didn't force you into anything, I just gave you a little encouragement."

Patrick laughed, "Alright then. I'm still telling anyone, if we get caught, that you peer pressured me into this."

"Fair enough," said Tyler, crossing his legs and turned to face Patrick full on, "So now, tell me everything."

Patrick went red straight away.

"It's sort of the same thing that happened to you with Josh except... way crazier and kind of fucked up."

Tyler's eyes widened.

"Who is it? Is it someone from our school or another school?"

"His name is Pete and He's twenty five... I think," Patrick whispered, not even able to look Tyler in the face.

Tyler blinked, "Twenty five, Patrick. Holy crap, that's like... crazy dude. That’s a huge age gap."

“I know.”

“He's like old.”

“Dude!”

“Sorry, it's just. Yeah…”

Patrick noticed that Tyler had decided to completely skim over making a big deal out of the fact that it was a guy... and for that Patrick was incredibly grateful.

"I know, It just sort of happened though," Patrick knew he was going to have leave out certain bits if he didn't want Tyler insisting he go to the fucking police instead of continuing to let his own emotions and feeling get the better of him.

"Well, how did you two even meet," Tyler questioned, looking puzzled, "Last you told me you didn't have a life outside of school. I got to wonder what your parents would let you do that'd allow you to meet a twenty five year old guy."

"Well, see that's the thing..." Patrick swallowed and paused for a moment, "I just kind of starting seeing him everyone around the city randomly and one day he actually talked to me and was like 'I'm sorry, I'm not stalking you I promise," Except he totally was, I reckon. He made me break my Walkman by accident and so he bought me this..."

Patrick pulled out the iPod he had shown to no one else yet and Tyler's eyes went wide.

"That's expensive dude, oh my god."

"I know," Patrick strained, "That's exactly what I thought like wow I can't let you do this but I didn't have anything else to listen to music with so i kept it."

"This sounds like a weird, slightly problematic rom com, in all honesty," Tyler frowned, "I'd be careful around this guy, Patrick.

I don't know how I feel about his intentions."

Tyler sounded so noble and old fashioned that Patrick couldn't help but snort with laughter.

"Intentions?"

"Well, I mean like if he going to kidnap you and sell you to a human trafficking ring, or something," Tyler questioned, the concern drowning his voice.

"I don't think so," Patrick said honestly, trying to imagine Pete doing such a thing, "I think he wants to protect me rather. He seems... kind of head over heels for me. He's kind of cute and acts very young though he sounds like he has a lot of past bullshit he hasn't properly dealt with yet."

Patrick felt like there was no stopping the word vomit that seemed to be leaving his mouth faster than he ever thought possible. He'd obviously needed to confide in someone about this for a very long time.

"Well, as long as he like is nice to you, doesn't expect you to keep accepting crazy gifts that make uncomfortable and makes you happy, I guess I can accept him," Tyler said slowly, "But like, he better know that if he hurts you he'll have Josh and me coming after him."

Patrick paused for a moment to try and imagine an angry Josh and Tyler attacking Pete and snorted again.

"Well, see that's the thing," Patrick added, trying to stay on topic, "We're not anything official I don't think. We both kind of... um... ok so i may have kind of lied to you on Saturday about being sick at the mall."

Tyler raised his eyebrows. Patrick swallowed and continued.

"So I ended running into Pete in the music store and we.... ended up in the bathroom."

"And..." Tyler prodded, "Did he kiss you, make out with you in the bathroom? What happened?"

"We.... He...."

"Oh my god, did you have sex with a guy you just met in a public bathroom, Patrick," Tyler whispered screamed, his face frowning hard. He looked like he was preparing to grab Patrick's shoulder and shake him for his stupidity.

"NO, oh my god Tyler, No," Patrick hissed back, "No, he just gave me a freaking hand job."

"WOAH," Tyler coughed and blinked hard, "Wow, ok then. Um. Congrats I guess, but also you don't know this guy and you're letting him jerk you off in a public bathroom? You don't even know when the last time that bathroom was cleaned... gross!"

Patrick blinked and almost wanted to laugh again.

"Is that what you're pissed about," Patrick questioned, "Really?"

"Look dude, what you do and who you do it with is really not my place to judge you about I just want to be fucking sensible. Though I will say, wait until you know someone first before you have sex with them," Tyler said sagely.

"Why do I feel like you're saying that from personal experience, oh my god," Patrick whispered.

"Oh no," Tyler said suddenly, waving his hands around in protest, "Oh my god, no it's not me. I just hear things from people and it sounds like good advice so i pass on the message."

Patrick sighed. 

"I felt like i regretted it straight afterwards but then he was like, 'actually let's get to know each other before anything else happens' and a huge part of my mind was like 'just do it'," Patrick shrugged, "Like I know, with the track record of events I should ditch him and run but also... I can't kick these feelings I have."

Tyler shrugged, "Well, you do what feels right I guess. As long as you stay safe and happy and freaking TELL ME NEXT TIME THIS SORT OF THING HAPPENS WHEN I'M WITH YOU. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LIED TO ME ON SATURDAY."

Patrick cringed, "Yeah, I know. I'm so sorry. I was wallowing in self-guilt and kind of freaking out."

"That's no excuse," Tyler snapped... before suddenly softening his face, "But you're forgiven and I understand why you did it."

Tyler sighed, twisted around using his backpack as a pillow and Patricks lap as a footrest, laid down.

“What even is our lives right now,” Tyler sighed.

Patrick stared out across the school grounds blankly.

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Here is it!!! Lots of exciting stuff happening and finally some Andy reference (I've kept you guys waiting soooo long but here is why!!!) please comment and tell me what you think. What do you think could happen? Where do you think this is going??


	10. I never told you what i do for a living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricks feels sick and Pete comes to the rescue  
> Pete makes a big connection that threatens to change everything

Eventually, after Tyler had napped and Patrick had read in that position for quite some time the siren rang for the next period.

“Mmrrr,” Tyler groaned, climbing to a standing position and straightening out his uniform, “Really. I could sleep all day.”

“That’s what the weekend and you know, night times are for,” Patrick replied, lifting his backpack on to his shoulder and beginning to climb the fire escape. Tyler followed behind him and within two minutes they were safely back inside the corridor of the study hall. Even more amazingly, no one had spotted them.

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never been caught out there before,” Patrick questioned as they walked off to the science labs.

“Well,” Tyler said, “I think I was spotted once but I hid for ages afterwards so I think they thought they were just seeing things. It was Mrs Creevey and I know she just got surgery to remove cataracts from her eyes so no one is really going to put stock into something she thought she may have seen.”

Patrick smiled and bid goodbye to Tyler as he went off to History and Patrick entered the science classrooms corridor.

Patrick entered the chemistry lab and found his usual seat near the front. As soon as he was seated, he pulled out his textbook and began working on the current chapter they were reading. He had caught up on the work from his missed lesson but now he was trying to get in front. If only his mind wouldn't keep concentrating on the tutoring tonight or all the things Tyler and he had talked about... or how Patrick kind of really liked climbing buildings with Tyler when they weren't supposed to.

He had been working for about two minutes when Mr Ross exited his office in a hurry, cup of coffee in hand and looking very much like he'd just rolled out of bed despite the fact it was almost ten o clock in the morning.

"Good morning class, sorry I'm late. Today has been running very late for everything so far but I do apologise. We are doing theory today so please continue with your questions for the chapter we're currently reading and I will check in with you all through the lesson."

Patrick set his pen back to the page.

"Patrick, can you come see me please."

Patrick raised his eyebrows but grabbed his homework and shuffled over to Mr Ross's desk.

"Hi, um, here's my homework. I've done some extra reading too and I've caught up if you want to see my exercise book," Patrick added.

Mr Ross smiled, "Thank you Patrick, you dedication is refreshing and I will check in with you throughout the lesson like everyone else but for now could you please come into my office. I would like to speak to you about something."

Patrick nodded and follow. But once Mr Ross's back was turned he frowned and looked back at his desk. His lab partner, Eliza, raised a quizzical eyebrow in his direction. What was this about? Was he in trouble? He had caught up on all his work and was almost very much ahead of the class again.

Patrick tried to quietly regulate his breathing as they entered Mr Ross's office and Mr Ross closed the door behind Patrick.

"Please take a seat," Mr Ross gestured to the hard plastic chair in front of his desk and Patrick sat down slowly, trying to sit up as straight as he could. He felt so awkward being in here alone. Whenever he met with teachers for meetings it was almost always with his Parents and it was almost always good. The last time he'd felt this nervous was when he'd been in the meeting with the principal of his old school and he had to endure his father yelling for fifteen minutes straight about why Patrick was being transferred to another school and how they should be ashamed of their teachers and ethics.

Patrick swallowed.

"I just want to chat to you about how you're going, and check in about you being sick the other day. Mr Trohman came and had a chat to me about it but I just wanted to hear about it from your point of view."

Patrick blinked. Since when had teachers become so accusing about being sick when he'd already had another teacher speak for him.

"Um..." Patrick began, trying to urge his brain to remember how to form proper sentences, "I felt very dizzy and nauseous during Mr Trohman lesson and I thought it was nothing until I stood up to leave and just couldn't. I think it was a blood sugar thing."

Patrick hoped he was a better liar then he thought he sounded.

"Oh ok, well as long as you're ok now. Is it logged with the school that you have issues with this?"

"Um, no," Patrick replied honestly, "I've never had it before but I recognised it because my cousin Logan has diabetes and he had a blood sugar thing at Thanksgiving last year so I recognised the symptoms."

That part, at least, wasn't a lie. Patrick did remember his aunt feeding his cousin lemonade and jelly beans when Logan had complained of feeling sick. Patrick hoped like hell he would never get diabetes. From all he'd heard, it didn't sound fun.

"Ok, well, maybe you should go see a doctor about that. We wouldn't want you getting sick and it possibly having a negative effect on your fantastic grades. Well done by the way, I had a chat to your other teachers and you're doing fantastically. I really want you to know that I'm here if you need any help. I hope that all your teachers are extending you the same message too. You're a gifted man, Patrick."

"Um, thank you," Patrick replied, his cheeks going red, "Yeah, all my teachers have been great especially Mr Trohman. He's tutoring me so help my English grade."

Mr Ross raised his eyebrows, "Oh, that's generous of him. I think I did hear Principal Gobin chatting with Mr Trohman about that. That's another thing Patrick...."

Patrick swallowed, this didn't sound like it was going anywhere good.

"I want you to be wary about Mr Trohman. He is a great teacher, I'm sure but there has been talk that he has something of a temper issue. So I just want you to know that if displays this during your tutoring, you can come and inform me or Mr Urie, ok. We are aware of the issue and are helping Principal Gobin deal with anything that may come up. We care only for the welfare of the students of this school."

Mr Ross looked very much like that sentence had exhausted him.

"Um, wow, ok, Thanks I guess for telling me that," Patrick said slowly, "I'll... let you know if I notice anything. Um. Thank you. Do you mind if I go back to my work now? I know you said we only had to get to chapter seven today but I've almost finished chapter seven and want to try and get ahead."

Mr Ross blinked quickly like he'd snapped out of a daydream back into reality, "Oh of course, you're doing so well Patrick. Keep it up. I'll come check on your work in a bit."

As soon as Mr Ross finished his sentence Patrick scrambled quickly out of the room and returned to his desk. Eliza gave him another quizzical look but he ignored her. He kept his head down and tried to concentrate on soup of words swimming on the page in front of him.

Oh god, why did Mr Ross have to say that to him? It was obviously total bullshit. Patrick knew that Joe only ever got a little bit angry that assholes that deserved it. He never 'had temper issues'. He was never any worse than any other teacher he'd had when they had been reacting to bad behaviour.

Should he perhaps tell Joe what had happened?

"No," Patrick whispered quietly to himself, rereading the question in front of him again for the third time.

No, he didn't want their first tutoring session to be marred by gossip and doubt. Mr Ross was spouting bullshit and apparently Mr Urie was involved too?

Patrick sighed and furrowed his brow. He really liked Mr Urie and hoped that his good impression of him wasn't a complete inaccuracy. Mr Urie so generously allowing Tyler and friends to practice in the music room at lunch was one of the many reasons that Patrick was even able to be taught guitar.

He hoped that nothing would muck that up. He really hoped that everything would work out ok and Patrick would have to give up the thing that had taken him so long to acquire.

His stomach gurgled strangely and he placed a hand to his abdomen.

He didn't know what he'd do if he was forced to quit guitar now. He honestly didn't know how he'd cope. Maybe Pete could teach him? He did remember Pete mentioning that he played Bass and that wasn't too far away from guitar, was it? Lynz played both and she was teaching Patrick guitar.

Patrick felt like someone had cut the rope right before he'd been about to hang when the bell for third period rang. He had his bag and was out the door before anyone else.

Patrick made it to his locker before his stomach gurgled again. He pressed his hand again to his abdomen and dumped his textbooks in his locker. He leant against his locker and took a deep breath. What was wrong with him? He felt like he might through up or something… What had he eaten today? Nothing but toast and coffee and water… Maybe the milk had been off and he hadn't realised in his rush this morning.

Patrick took another deep breath as it felt like someone had turned a blender on his stomach. He felt himself begin to sweat and sprinted into the men's bathroom just in time for him to drop and throw up loudly into the toilet bowl, ignoring the jarring pain that shot through his kneecaps. He gagged a few more times, screwing his eyes, tears running down his cheeks. He coughed and spat into the bowl before groaning quietly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “fuck, oh my god.”

He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped his mouth and forehead. He finally climbed to his feet and he felt a wave of dizziness causing him to lean against the side of the cubicle.

Patrick took a minute to refocus, rebalance before he opened the cubicle and headed over to the sinks. He turned on the tap and washed his head and neck. The cool water soothed his burning skin and he swished some around in his mouth before spitting back out.

Patrick let out another groan, slumping his shoulders pressing his head against the mirror in front of him. He didn't hear anyone enter the bathroom until someone cleared their throat.

Patrick swung up to see Chris Salih standing there, his eyebrows wide as he took in Patrick's appearance.

“Patrick, no offence, but you look like shit,” Chris said slowly, “Are you sick?”

“I just threw up,” he croaked.

“Shit, you should go to the nurse,” he said, “do you need me to come with you?”

“No,” Patrick mumbled, the nurse’s office was only just around the corner, “No, it's ok.”

He stumbled out of the bathroom and shuffled quickly into the nurse’s office. Marg, the fifty five year old nurse that staffed the small sick bay took one look at Patrick when he entered and guided him to the bed in the corner.

“I felt sick out of nowhere and threw up,” Patrick mumbled.

Marg went about getting him a drink of water and Patrick requested mouthwash. She gave him a wet washcloth before leaving the room to fetch his medical file.

While she was gone Patrick felt his phone buzz in his pocket. As he already felt marginally better Patrick clicked it open and read a message from Pete.

_“Are you having fun in the teenage federal penitentiary that is high school?”_

Patrick thought for a moment about lying but he felt like shit and kind of felt like seeing Pete…

_“No. Got sick and puked everywhere. Sitting in Nurses office.”_

Pete took less than ten seconds to reply.

_“ARE YOU OK? I WILL COME GET YOU?”_

Patrick signed and heard the footsteps of Marg returning.

_“Yeah ok, pick me up from the gate by the Gym.”_

Patrick stashed his phone in his pocket and Marg entered the room with Patrick's medical file.

“Well you don't have any listed allergies and your parents consented to you taking medicine if need be so,” Marg began.

“I just want to go to home,” Patrick groaned.

Marg looked at him sternly for a moment before grabbing a slip of paper.

“Go sign out and call your parents to come pick you up,” she said kindly, “and get some rest, keep your fluids up.”

Patrick nodded, got to his feet and trudged his way to the office. He smiled weakly at the admin lady (Tara, if he remembered correctly) and handed over the note.

Tara smiled kindly at him, “do you need me to call your parents?”

“No, I've already texted my mum, she's picking me up from the gym gate,” Patrick croaked. Ok so he was putting it on a bit but he didn't need them to think he was doing anything other than going straight home. Logically he knew that wasn't the case but whenever he lied his anxiety walked into the room and quietly squeezed his brain into over producing thoughts like a sentient weed.

As soon as he was handed his sign out slip Patrick exited the office quickly. His breathing picked up as he pushed his exhausted body towards the gym gate. His head was still pounding and he hoped that maybe Pete had some aspirin otherwise Patrick's head would most likely split wide open.

Patrick stumbled up to the curb as a vaguely familiar black camero came speeding down the road. Patrick had barely enough time to make the connection when he saw the bat symbol on the front of the car.

“Patrick!”

Pete was suddenly by his side faster than should ever have been possible but Patrick's world was starting to spin.

“Pete…”

Patrick's head was heavy and suddenly he was laying down and the ground was rumbling around him. Patrick couldn't bare to open his eyes properly.

“Whererwegoin,” Patrick slurred.

“I'm taking you to a fucking hospital, man, Jesus,” Pete sounded mad. Patrick didn't want him to be mad.

“Pete NO,” Patrick managed to form clear words, his head pounded but the panic was setting in, “my father will kill me. Please Pete. Don't.”

Patrick felt the rumbling around him stop.

“Your father would actually get mad at you for getting sick?”

“Please, Pete.”

“What the fuck do I do,” Pete hissed. Patrick wished he could grab his hand but he literally felt incapacitated. What the hell was wrong with him? What was going on?

“I dunno…”

Pete gasped, “Got it.”

Patrick tried hard to open his eyes, “wha?”

Patrick felt the rumbling begin beneath him again.

 

~~

~~

Pete put his foot down like he'd never done before. He didn't fucking give a shit about speeding tickets right now. He didn't care much about anything at all except for the very sick and deteriorating human in his backseat right now.

What was wrong with Patrick? Did he have a virus or just a really bad migraine? Pete’s stomach jumbled into knots as he drove, surely nothing good could be behind such an extreme reaction?

Pete wanted to call Joe but he knew that Joe was just tell him to take Patrick to hospital. He didn't know what to do? He'd heard vague talk from Hayley once about healing abilities that vampires had but she'd neglected to go into enough detail and she wasn't answering her phone right now.

Pete knew that if Patrick was properly conscious right now he'd be screaming at Pete for using his phone while driving and Pete would take getting yelled at by the small amazing human any day over what was happening now.

Pete cut several corners and skidded across gravel as he shot into the car park outside the one place he could think of to go while all this was happening.

_“Gabe is awesome but he is also a very powerful man who when wronged will be very ruthless and cold. He’s nice if you’re on his good side and he does not handle charity cases well so make sure you always pay your bills.”_

Pete would pay whatever it would cost.

Pete locked the door and ran up to the front door of the bank, punched in their account number and rushed inside the grey corridors. He pushed past several other of his kind and rushed to the end of the hall, the drop in centre door was unlocked and Pete burst through it. Within the very same second he was pressed up against the wall by two very large snarling immortals.

“WAIT,” Pete choked out, “I need to see Gabe! It's an emergency, please.”

Pete’s eyes scanned around the pale cream roomed that looked oddly like a school cafeteria except it was currently completely empty. The two immortals holding him up were crushing his windpipe. Not that he needed to breath but it was still pretty uncomfortable…

“Put him down guys, its fine,” Pete mentally screamed in triumph as Gabe walked through a door to the far right of the entrance door. Pete coughed hard and rubbed his throat as Gabe approached him.

“Pete! Pete the treat! What can I do for you, my friend? You seemed flustered and my security informs me you have a sick human in the back seat of the car you drove here.”

“Yes, I do! Gabe you have to help me, I couldn't ask Joe. I know he won't help me-”

“I love Joe but by god he needs to pick up his game as a sire. It's a serious responsibility, you know.”

“Please listen to me,” Pete cried, Gabe raised a single eyebrow, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling it's just it's an emergency. The human, he's sick and I don't know what to do. He doesn't want me to take him to a hospital. I heard we can heal humans but I've never been shown how.”

Gabe sighed, “I think I might have to have a chat to Joe about his serious neglect of duty. Ok, so why don't you just turn him then if he means that much to you?”

“I…” Pete hesitated, “I can't make that choice for him, plus I…”

“Let me guess,” Gabe said slowly, “you don't know how to do that either?”

Pete shook his head, “please help me.”

“Goddamn, Joe is going to hate me but I'm going to have to call Andy about this. How did he sanction Joe turning you, goddamn.”

Pete blinked, “Look, I don't know who this Andy is but please show me how to heal him.”

Gabe let out an elongated groan and ran both his hands down his face.

“Oh my god, ok. Bring him in.”

Pete rushed out of the building and was back in a heartbeat carrying a now mumbling incoherent Patrick. Gabe motioned to one of the long tables in the drop in room. Pete gently placed him on top and Gabe had a hand on Patrick head.

Pete felt a fire light inside his chest.

“Don't touch-” Pete caught himself and slapped a hand over his mouth, “I'm sorry. Oh my god, I don't know-”

“Oh my god, he's your siren,” Gabe exclaimed, smirking, “don't worry, I'm not interested in your human. But he does seem to have an extreme fever that will kill him if we can't cool him down.”

Pete felt like his chest was collapsing, “Do you know what’s causing it?”

Gabe frowned, “It’s too intense to be natural, and I think it’s something to do with your bond…”

“How do we heal him,” Pete asked, “you said Joe should have told me but he didn't so you tell me.”

“It's pretty simple,” Gabe said, reaching out a hand in Pete’s direction. Pete stared for a second before catching and giving Pete his hand. Gabe grabbed Pete’s wrist and brought it over to Patrick's mouth.

Pete gasped in pain as

 Gabe dragged the tip of his fingernail across Pete’s wrist. Pete watched transfixed as a small thin red line appeared and droplets of Pete’s blood fell from his wrist into Patrick's now open mouth. Some rubies hit Patrick's lips and chin and Pete studied the trail that dripped down to his neck like a hawk watching his prey.

“Watch his skin, listen to his heart,” Gabe whispered, “Do you see what's happening?”

Pete watched and listened, placing a hand gently on Patrick's forehead. Instantly he watched as the sheen of sweat and heat began to fade. Patrick's paled skin began to return to its normal colour. His heartbeats began to return to their normal melody and that Pete had grown so used to and within seconds Patrick's eyes flew open.

“Pete,” he gasped, eyes widening.

“Ssh, it's ok,” Pete said, moving his hand down to caress Patrick’s left cheek, “just close your eyes, Trick. For me, just close your eyes.”

Patrick nodded and closed his eyes, easing back into his previous position and closing his eyes.

Pete turned to Gabe and spoke so quiet that Patrick wouldn't be able to hear.

“How do you turn someone?”

Gabe shook his head, “that's something I will leave up to Joe to teach you. Don't worry though, I will be talking to him. I have a feeling you will need to know sooner or later.”

Gabe ran a finger over the cut on Pete’s wrist. He looked down to see it had completely healed to a faint red line.

“Take the kid somewhere to rest, he'll be completely fine,” Gabe assured.

Pete nodded, and picked up Patrick's now sleeping form.

“Thank you, Gabe. I will pay you for your time, add it to the account.”

“Nonsense,” Gabe waved his hand, his face still crumpled in a thoughtful frown, “Joe neglected his sire duties and I'm just fixing that mistake. Take care, Pete.”

Pete nodded and left quickly, Patrick making small sighing and mumbling noises as Pete strapped him back into the car.

Pete didn't know where to take him. He didn't want to leave him alone just yet so Pete ended up driving through every side street of the surrounding suburbs. Patrick slept soundly in the passenger seat and Pete occasionally glanced over to study the unconscious relaxed face of sleep that made Pete’s chest heavy and something catch in his throat.

After a few hours He felt better about Patrick's condition so turned into Patrick suburb and was almost back to Patrick's house when Patrick's phone began buzzing incessantly in his pocket.

Pete tried to ignore it but it nagged at his senses. He pulled over in front of a random house and fished the phone out of Patrick's pocket.

_“Reminder: Tutoring with Mr Trohman in 30 minutes. Tap to snooze.”_

Pete stared at the phone screen, barely registering the sound of Patrick waking up beside him. His chest felt like it was slowly filling up with water.

“Pete, where are we- is that my phone?”

Pete stared at the phone for two more seconds, mouth hanging open slightly. His mind was a blank slate.

“Mr Trohman…” He said slowly.

“… Yeah, he's my English teacher,” Patrick answered slowly, sounding completely like his old self again, “Why? What's going on? Pete, my memory is pretty hazy, what's going on.”

Pete looked up at Patrick. He was staring at Pete, his face scrunched in concern.

“Pete, what just happened? I remember this grey hallway and… There was a guy there I think, and you. Where did you take me? And can you please click the damn screen so it stops vibrating please?”

The engine of Pete’s mind seemed to kick back into gear in that moment. He clicked the phone screen shut and handed the phone back to Patrick.

“Where do you need to go for tutoring” Pete asked

Patrick blinked, “Um, I was meeting Mr Trohman in the car park at school and we were going to his house- don't change the subject, what happened Pete? I feel completely normal like my sickness was just a complete dream.”

Pete breathed evenly and sped off in the direction of Patrick's school, deflecting every question Patrick sent his way until Patrick huffed loudly and went silent… That was until Pete pulled the car up to the edge of the road just as the teachers were walking out. Pete could see Joe glancing around the car park as he walked towards his car. He was obviously looking for Patrick.

Patrick saw this too and unbuckled his seatbelt, “OK, so I have to go now but you are so not off the hook, you jerk. You need to tell me what happened because whatever it was, was definitely not normal-”

Pete beeped the horn hard and loud and Patrick jumped in his seat, clutching at his heart.

“Holy shit, dude. Why did you do that-?”

Pete watched as Joes headed turned in the direction of the noise, spotted the car and registered the passengers inside. Pete smiled tightly and waved a finger in Joe’s direction.

Joe was completely frozen where he stood. Pete could tell he wasn't even breathing. He counted to three before Joe started moving. He was walking fast, almost too fast towards the direction of the car and when he got there he calmly pulled the passenger door open, grabbed Patrick's arm and helped him climb out of the car.

“Um, Mr Trohman, this is not what it looks like, I swear. I wasn't skipping school, I've been signed out for a couple hour-”

“Patrick,” Joe said calmly but firmly, a voice Pete was all too used to hearing pointed in his direction, “I will talk to you in a moment. Wait by my car. I need to talk to my brother.”

“Your brother- WHAT?”

Patrick shout echoed through the inside of the car and Pete wanted nothing more to whisk Patrick away from the careful disguised anger that was wafting off Joe in thick suffocating waves.

“You better listen to him, Patrick,” Pete said firmly.

Patrick opened his mouth like he looked like he was about to protest but stopped mid breath.

“Ok, but I want an explanation,” he hissed, walking back towards Joe’s car. Joe reached up and click the auto locking, and Pete watched as Patrick climbed in the passenger seat before slamming the door harshly.

Joe took that a signal and climbed into the passenger seat of Pete's car before closing the door. Before Pete knew what was happening, Joe was shouting.

“What the _fuck,_ Pete? That's one of my students! What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

“Well what the fuck do you think you're doing, Joe? That's my fucking siren right there except he's more than that, Joe. I can't kill him, ever.”

“Damn fucking straight, you can't,” Joe spat, his eyes glowing, “That's kids gone through enough shit, which, by the way, I'm working very hard to help him through. There's no way he could handle being dragged into the bullshit of our world.”

“I won't let him be, he doesn't even know anything,” Pete cried angrily.

“We don't age, Pete. We never change. We feed on blood and have enhanced abilities which are sometimes hard to hide without years of practice. He will eventually notice,” Joe hissed, “Pete, this can't work.”

“But I'm in love with him,” Pete whispered

There was a long silence in the car.

“Oh shit,” Joe whispered in reply. Pete looked over, his eyes straining as he tried to hold back tears. He watched as Joe closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and leant back in the seat.

“You once told me-”

“-that once an immortal is in love that's it. Yes,” Joe confirmed, much calmer now. He almost seemed sad, “They can never be in love with another.”

An echoing silence rang through the car once again.

“Joe, what do I do? I can't be away from him, I couldn’t stand it,” Pete said quietly, “I couldn't even begin to imagine.”

“It's more pain than you could imagine, I won't make you stay away from him,” Joe said gently, raising a hand and pressing his fingers against Pete's cheek, “you have be careful and smart but I won't put you through being apart from him.”

Pete closed his eyes, a deep calm coming over him at Joes touch.

“I have to go,” Joe said after a minute, “it's still my job to teach Patrick, siren or not.”

“He's probably gonna be mad at me, some stuff happened today that confused him-”

“I'll tell him, he can take it up with you when his work is done,” Joe’s voice took on this weird authoritarian tone that Pete suspected he reserved for his unruly students. Pete nodded and Joe climbed out of the car.

“We finish at five thirty, you can come back to the house after that,” Joe said, before closing the door and walking off.

Pete gunned the engine and sped off down the road towards the main city before he could turn around and run after Patrick. He wanted to explain everything to him but that could only end in disaster. Pete was sure of that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely readers! I'm promise i'm going to try and post more often from now on. I'm thinking minimum, one new chapter a week... but I am very busy of late so please don't hold me to that haha.
> 
> SO.  
> Everybody knows now.... and now is when things get even more interesting. More things are to be revealed. The crux of the story is coming to fruition. Please tell me what you think. Guess what is going to happen!  
> Please tell me what you think of Gabe too!! (I love Gabe!)


	11. Not The Ordinary Type

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete and Joe tell Patrick about everything, incluiding Pete's human life.  
> But memories can still hurt you, even years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!  
> there is mention of a dead child in this chapter. If this is going to disturb you please do not read the flashback in italics.

Joe was having a hard time getting Patrick to concentrate.

Patrick was supposed to be writing definitions of the terms he had done not so well with on his first assignment. A sort of, ‘let's focus on what you got wrong and so next time you'll ace it’, sort of thing…

Patrick took a deep breath, dropped his pen and was staring at Joe.

“Are you both on drugs?”

Joe blinked

“What?”

“Are you and Pete on drugs? Because it's the only logical explanation I can come up with to explain what's been going on. Andb the only logical thing I can come up with for what happened today is that I got drugged as well, except I don't think Pete would do that so wha-”

“-I'm going to stop you right, Patrick,” Joe said firmly, “Now is the time to be concentrating on your work.”

“How can I, though,” Patrick cried, standing up and beginning to pace around Joe’s living room, “Your brother makes no sense at all!”

“Don't I know it,” Joe mumbled.

“I mean, he was stalking me and then whoops now I think I'm in love with him! That's something only crazy people do and I'm not fu-”

Patrick stopped mid-sentence, only just catching on to what he had justb admitted out loud.

”Shit,” he hissed, placing his face in his hands and shaking his head, “I didn't mean it like that, I-”

Joe’s brain was lit like a Christmas tree. There was no chance of this stopping now. Pete had already waxed lyrical in his actions and a few items in his words that he was in love with his siren and now Patrick reciprocated and just… Joe knew he couldn't dig his heels in any longer. There was no stopping this. He sighed again and went to reply.

“While I know it may crazy that you say you're already in love with Pete,” Joe said slowly, “I don't think you can help it because he certainly can't. It's a… Thing people like him and I have utterly no control over.”

Joe realised the mistake he’d made as soon as he’d said it… But now it felt not so bad to maybe shed a little light in order to help Pete.

His stupid, hopeless, amazing changeling thatb felt too much and loved so hard

"What do you mean, ‘people like him and I’? What is wrong with you guys? Are you actually drug addicts?”

If only the explanation was that simple.

“I think that's something Pete needs to talk to you about,” Joe replied quietly.

He could do it. He could take over and tell Patrick everything. The boy would inevitably know anyway… But he needed to let Pete do things on his own. This was his journey to take, and Patrick's.

Joe just hoped Patrick wouldn't go running for the hills… Though a little part of hoped, if only for Patrick's sake, that he would too.

“Well I'm calling him right now then,” Patrick exclaimed, jumping up from his work and heading into the dining hall.

Joe knew he could stop him now without exerting force that would leave Patrick never trusting him again. Joe also heard the footsteps before the door even opened.

Pete burst into the house within a second. He stood there in front of a bewildered looking Patrick, half way to clicking Pete’s contact name on his phone.

“I figured,” he said, as Patrick slowly began to unfreeze, “That you would call so I've been hanging nearby.”

Joe had been pretty sure he'd heard Pete snooping near the house recently but hadn’t really thought much of it because that's just what he expected Pete to do.

“But how did you know even before I called you? You need to give me some sort of explanation before my head explodes! I've had enough!”

Pete took a quick deep breath.

“Patrick, um… Joe and I… We’re immortal.”

The next second seemed to last about five minutes.

“Ok, so drug induced superhero fantasies,” Patrick cried sarcastically, “great, so of course I had to go and fall for a drug addled ten year old.”

“Wait,” Pete said, “No, I'm not on drugs. I swear it's real, I can show you.”

Patrick huffed, “I don't want any more bullshit and childish lies.”

Joe watched as Patrick began to gather his bag. Pete stood frozen where he was as he had shut down completely. Joe had often seen him do when he went into panic mode.

Joe had to do something useful around here… He sighed and sped over to Patrick at full speed. Patrick dropped his back pack and yelped, stumbling back. Joe caught him by the arm and steadied him.

“Patrick, it's true what Pete said, we’re immortal,” Joe never truly realised how weird it sounded out loud. He never really had to say it out loud to someone who wasn't already immortal themselves… He honestly didn't blame Patrick for thinking what he did about him and Pete.

Patrick's face screwed up and he almost growled as he spoke, “Great, so you're fucking on drugs too. You're a teacher, man. I respected you and you just-”

“Ok, I really didn't want to have to do this because I don't want you to run screaming to the hills,” Joe cut in, “But you’re not believing our words, so.”

Joe closed his eyes and pulled the pain that lived in his chest to the forefront of his mind and willed his fangs out.

He opened his eyes and mouth and looked at Patrick.

Patrick was frozen where he stood. His mouth and eyes wide open as they took in Joes fully black eyes and sharp fangs. Joe could distinctly hear Patrick's heart beating at a thousand miles an hour. He stumbled frantically away from Joe.

“Patrick, we don't want to hurt you,” Joe said, slipping his fangs away and returning his eyes to normal, “we actually want normal human lives it's why I've returned to teaching-”

“-how old are you,” Patrick finally spoke, his voice strained and pointed in Pete’s direction.

“80 something, by last calculation,” Pete said slowly.

Patrick nodded, his eyes closed before turning to face Joe.

“And you, you're older right?”

“Yes, I'm about one hundred and twenty five years old, I think maybe a bit more, I don't keep accurate track,” Joe admitted.

Patrick closed his eyes and Joe listened as his breathing deepened and his heart beat got minutely slower. He stood there for about a minute and Joe wondered whether he had just disassociated from the situation completely. Joe looked over at Pete who was just as frozen as Patrick, but he eyes were still focused completely on the seventeen year old.

“Trick,” Pete said quietly.

Patrick’s eyes snapped open and he turned to face Pete. His face was wide eyed and eyebrows high.

“So you guys are vampires,” Patrick said slowly, “Honest to god-”

“Um, we don’t use the word vampire,” Joe replied sternly, “We really don’t like that word or think it’s an accurate description of -“

“Ok, Immortals, then,” Patrick replied. His calm seemed to be a thin layer over the top of a vibrating excitement.

Joe waited again for another question but instead Patrick picked his bag up and began packing up his work books.

“What are you doing, Patrick,” Joe asked, “Our tutoring isn’t over for another half hour.”

“By the time I walk home, it’ll be time enough,” Patrick replied, walking over to the front door, “I need some… space.”

Joe and Pete stared as Patrick walked out the front door.

“Should I-”

“No,” Joe replied quickly, “No. Leave him be. He needs to calm down.”

“You don’t think he’s going to tell anybody,” Pete exclaimed suddenly.

“No,” Joe replied firmly, “No, but also he knows that no one is going to believe him if he does.”

He really hoped Patrick would be smart enough to know that, and wouldn’t tell anyone. He hoped for Patrick’s sake more than his own.

Joe barely blinked in recognition as a few seconds later Pete also flew out the front door.

 

~~  
~~

Patrick walked fast along the street. He could feel a stitch developing in his side but he needed to keep walking. His house wasn’t that far away.

Patrick felt a whoosh of wind past his ears and almost ran face first into Pete who was suddenly standing right in front of him.

“Pete! Leave me-”

“Wait, Patrick. Just let me say a few things ok?”

Patrick sighed and walked over to a bus stop at the side of the road. He dropped his backpack and sat down. Pete sat right next to him and Patrick was so damn aware of the inch of space between their legs.

“I just have to say that you’re handling this well, so far,” Pete started, “Most people run and scream once like they see the teeth and eyes.”

Patrick nodded.

“Let’s just say… it explains a lot of things- wait so I assume you to drink blood to survive? But I’ve seen you eat, I’ve see Joe drink coffee. What’s that about?”

“We do need to drink blood to survive yes, but as long as we get the blood we need we can eat whatever else we like. I’m glad for that too because food has improved so much in the last 60 years.”

“You haven’t wanted to drink my blood, have you,” Patrick whispered.

Pete stared hard at the ground, “Would it help if I lied about it and said no? I don’t really now Patrick but your blood’s scent was what made me find you. I couldn’t leave you alone because of it initially but now everything has changed so much. My feelings have changed…”

Patrick stared up at the cloudy sky before a thought hit him, in the silence.

“Pete, did you last relationship… Meagan. You said you were with her for five years, did she know about all this?”

Pete closed his eyes tightly before opening them again.

“No, she didn’t know, because I was with her before I was turned,” Pete admitted, “She was my wife.”

Patrick blinked hard.

Wife.

Oh my god.

Patrick suddenly felt very small where he sat. Pete had been married… fucking married. And Patrick was an awkward pudgy seventeen year old boy that knew nothing about relationships or how to be a proper adult…. And Pete wanted to know him?

It didn’t make sense.

“Oh, sorry… when did you get turned,” Patrick asked before cringing internally… was he allowed to ask that. Was that too personal a question or something?

Pete sighed and pulled out a photo from inside his wallet. It was laminated to preserve it as the photo was sepia and very old and cut out from a newspaper article. Patrick stared at it in wonder as he could clearly make out a slightly different looking Pete in a light coloured suit and slicked back hair. He was grinning and arm in arm with a beautiful striking young woman with a sharp beautiful face accompanied by dark curled hair. Her lithe frame perfectly carried the shape of her floor length white gown. It had long lace sleeves and a sweetheart neckline and stuck tight to her frame before it hit the waist and flared out as a ball gown from there. She was very slightly taller than Pete. The caption underneath read “ _Mr and Mrs Peter Wentz married July 10 th 1952\. The Bride is former Meagan Camper, Daughter of Mr and Mrs John Camper of Chicago, ILL.”_

“We were married in fifty two,” Pete answered, his voice sounded shaky “and she died in fifty five. I was turned almost immediately after.”

Married.

Patrick head hurt. He still couldn’t quite form those words properly…

Patrick heard a gasp escape from Pete’s mouth and he looked up to see Pete’s face marred in horror. His eyes were slowly going pitch black and he seemed to be heaving out breaths.

Patrick’s chest tightened.

“Pete! Your eyes-”

“Blood,” He whispered.

Patrick’s heart skipped a beat.

“Pete, what’s wrong-”

“I have to go,” Pete spat, “I’m sorry, I-”

And before Patrick could reply, Pete was gone leaving a small whirlwind of dead leaves and one very confused Patrick behind.

Something was wrong. Patrick knew something was wrong… this wasn’t something he could just leave.

Patrick picked up his cell and dialled.

“Joe, hey it’s Patrick. Something’s going on with Pete.”

 

~~

~~

 

Pete ran faster than he’d ever thought possible of himself. He barely knew where he was going yet he ran a specific route. He smelt blood. He smelt blood everywhere.

Blood.

 

_He knew something was wrong as he approached the house and heard Meagan Screaming. His feet carried him faster towards the entrance to their farm house. Adrenaline pumped through his veins…_

 

Pete smelt a human nearby as he passed several huge empty sheds. He turned the corner and before the trucker could even step outside his truck, Pete had grabbed him.

 

_Pete burst through the front door and saw Meagan huddled in the corner, clutching their son, Saint. Meagan and the toddler was covered in blood. Pete couldn’t see his face but the boy was not moving. He wasn’t moving… he wasn’t-_

_“Pete, no,” Meagan cried as she saw him enter, before he could register what was happened he was on the ground and there was a searing, tearing unimaginable pain in his shoulder._

_“PETE!”_

 

Pete tore his fangs into the trucker’s neck and drank deep. Blood. Blood. The trucker stopped struggling very quickly and went limp.

 

_Meagan screamed his name so loudly that it cut through his very soul and with a huge shove of energy he shoved against his attacker’s chest with enough effort to shove him across the room. Except, the man, barely moved and instead took a step back. Pete could now see he was ragged, pale and had long dark, dirty hair. He stared at Pete for a long second, Pete’s blood running from his lips._

_“You really shouldn’t have done that,” He let out in a high pitched snarl._

 

Pete stumbled away from the truck and hurtled a barbed wire fence. His brain knew what he did but his emotions couldn’t catch up. He sat down against the brick wall of a large warehouse. He placed his head in his hands and let out a large sob. A river of blood still running before his closed eyes.

He drowned in silence for what felt like forever before he felt a small firm hand on his shoulder. He shoved it off with force.

“Don't come near, I'll hurt you,” he hissed, not daring to breath In case he smelt this person’s blood.

“Pete, I don't think you're even capable of hurting me. I'm really old, you know.”

Pete's head flipped up and he stared at the smiling eternally sunny image of Hayley.

“Hayley,” he sobbed, letting his head hang low “What are you doing here?”

“I was nearby and kind of, ah, smelt the aftermath of that truck guy,” Pete lifted his head to look at her. She was wearing tight black jeans and matching sneakers along with an oversized grey hoodie. The hood was up and masked her bright red straight hair that hung just past her ears. Pete couldn't help but smile. Hayley had that effect on him.

“There we go,” Hayley smiled, “another flashback, hey? I've told you before and I'll tell you again, it won't last forever. You won't spend your life haunted by that.”

“I hope you're right,” Pete mumbled, “because it's been sixty years and I still have it.”

“Because you loved her, and him. Of course it's gonna take a long time. One day it'll be a dot.”

Pete's chest tightened slightly. He knew Hayley was trying to help him but he wasn't sure he ever wanted to forget. Meagan and Saint meant everything to him. They were his whole world. In some ways they would always be a little bit. He couldn't just forget them through the passages of immortal time.

Hayley took Pete's reply as complacency and sat down next to him, pulling him into a one armed sideways hug.

“How is everything else going,” she asked.

Pete sighed, and laughed humourlessly, “I should start paying you for these sessions, and you’re basically my psychiatrist.”

“I wouldn't accept a cent for it,” Hayley said earnestly.

“So, er, I found out that Patrick is one of Joe’s students and Joe also found out. Let's just say he's not happy.”

“Wow, did he say anything in particular?”

“Just angry, Patrick's been through heaps already and Joe doesn't want to add any more stress,” Pete replied, “also, Gabe at the blood bank told me that Joe had been neglecting his sire duties because he'd never showed me how to heal with our blood or how to turn anyone.”

“What,” Hayley cried angrily, “well he's right! That is a serious neglect of a sire duties! Being a sire comes with huge responsibilities.”

Pete stared at her. Her anger kind of answered Pete's next question but he decided to ask it anyway.

“Are you a sire, Hayley?”

“Yes. I told you I'm pretty old. I've got a few changelings.”

Pete blinked.

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?”

“A lady has to keep some secrets, Pete,” she replied, grinning, “Besides I've distracted you from your attack didn't I?”

Pete stared hard at the ground for a moment, “Yeah, you did. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, “what are you going to do now?”

Pete sighed, “I'm going to go home. I need Joe.”

“You deserve so much better for a sire than Joe,” Hayley said quietly. Pete stood up quickly, and swivelled to face him.

“Joe may have neglected some duties but he saved my life. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him and he loves me more than anything. He do anything for me,” Pete said angrily.

“He really would,” Hayley replied again, her words barely audible.

Pete stared at her for a long second, before shaking his head and running off towards home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> This chapter is a little shorter than usual but that's because it's just where it seemed to want to cut off. More soon and thankyou once again for all your lovely comments and support.  
> Tell me what you think of this chapter??? WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN??? I wanna hear your theories!!!!!!!


	12. I Caught Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Pete and Patrick have interesting conversations with their friends and get a little... carried away before an unexpectated arrival.

Pete was about halfway home when his phone began buzzing incessantly. He looked down and blinked in shock at the caller ID.

“Hey Mikey man, what's up?”

_“Hey Pete, Gerard told me to tell you we’re gonna be playing in Chicago in a week, I'm texting you the exact details now. Do you want tickets?”_

Pete instantly thought of Patrick.

“Hells yeah, man. Can you get me three tickets, Joe will probably want to come as well,” Pete suddenly remembered that none of the guys knew of Patrick and he internally groaned.

_“Three,” Mikey chuckled, “Pete, do you have a date in mind, dude?”_

Pete was very glad Mikey was on the other end of a phone and couldn't see him begin to blush.

“Well, sort of… It's complicated right now.”

_“Who's the lucky person, did you finally give in to Bills flirting?”_

“Dude, no,” Pete exclaimed, “Bill flirts with everyone, plus he’s got a mate, I don't take it personally…this date, He's human.”

“… _WHAT,”_ Pete heard three voices exclaim suddenly through the other end of the phone.

“Are all you fuckers listening in to our conversation, goddamn it,” Pete yelled at his phone. A lady walked towards him suddenly crossed to the other side of the road in shock.

 _“Hey dude, it's chill. We’re all friends here,”_ Mikey exclaimed _, “but seriously, a human? That's… I'm surprised.”_

“You're sort of a hypocrite, Mikeyway,” Pete reasoned.

_“Hey, the only human I ever turned was a joint turn between Gerard and I, and it wasn't a relationship thing. We saved Dewees life.”_

“Wait, joint turning is a thing,” Pete exclaimed, “goddamn, everyone is right. I'm the Jon Snow of immortals.”

Mikey clicked his tongue, _“don't sweat that man. It's not widely spread because it's not recommended. Both the sires have to be really on the same level because if they disagree it can become really difficult on the changeling.”_

“So how does one do a joint turning?”

 _“Well, it's way more complicated that a normal turning. You both have to have blood and venom in the changelings system and then you both have to hibernate together after they've died. The hibernation part is important it cements the connection between both otherwise the first sire that the changeling sees after waking up will be the only sire – oh my god, Gabe told me you didn't even know how to turn anyone yet and here I am sprouting about joint turning. Joe is gonna kill me,”_ Mikey groaned.

 _“Pete, you little shit,”_ Pete heard Gerard call from the background.

“Anyway..” Pete backtracked fast, “three tickets. I'll be there. Have fun, Mikeyway, you gossiping bitch.”

Pete heard Mikey’s indignant cough and hung up.

Patrick loved the music the boys made. They'd already talked about this. Maybe this would help Patrick to see a group of immortals who were awesome and would make Patrick happy. Maybe it would help him. Anything was worth a shot.

 

 

~~

~~

 

 

Against all of Patrick’s urges to rush back to Joe and wait for Pete to be ok. He instead went straight home.

Like a goddamn coward.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Joe never wanted to talk to him again. I mean something had obviously been wrong with Pete and Patrick had just handballed the problem to Joe and ran off. Too caught up in his own shock and emotions to think that, hey, maybe he should have offered some help. Not that he was sure he could have done anything but he still felt like the polite thing to do would have been to offer.

Patrick wasn’t even sure Pete was ok and he could easily admit that he couldn’t stop thinking about that night before he went to sleep.

So when Patrick woke up the next morning and checked his phone to see a text from Pete; needless to say he was shocked.

“ _I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now and I don’t blame you but…. My Chemical Romance are playing here on the weekend and I got you a ticket.”_

“Goddamnit,” Patrick said out loud to his empty room. Yesterday he found out fucking vampires- or immortals or whatever Joe said they called themselves… were fucking real. Patrick thought it was a pretty goddamnit smart move on his behalf to probably never speak to Pete again. Who knew what’d happen to him if he stuck around? He could get accidentally eaten or crushed or something… a rogue vampire could happen upon because he associated with others and become obsessed with the idea of hunting and killing him….

Patrick had watched Twilight more times than he cared to admit.

Patrick had also listened to My Chemical Romances album so many times he knew that if he passed up an opportunity to see them he’d regret it as long as he lived. Who knew when he’d get another chance to see them? He sighed and texted Pete back a confirmation. Maybe it’d be good for them to spend time together at a concert where it wasn’t just them talking but a shared experience. Plus Pete had said he knew the guys and if Patrick could get a chance to actually meet them then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“That’s really fucking selfish of you, Patrick,” He said out loud to himself as he pulled his blazer on. His phone buzzed suddenly and he almost tripped over his pair of shoes as he attempted to grab it.

_“I’m glad you’re going to come! The concert will be epic and I’m sure we can hang out with the guys afterwards. I’ll drive you there on the day. How are you going to explain this to your parents?”_

Patrick swore quietly. He really hadn’t thought about that part yet… at least not consciously. He knew it’d be something he’d have to figure out but any kid that grew up with strict parents knew how to be a good liar. It wasn’t something Patrick would say he was particularly proud of, but it came in handy at times.

So what was he going to tell his parents?

Patrick really didn’t want to ask Josh again. He didn’t want his friend who he barely saw to think he was using him for his own gain. He didn’t want anyone to think that but maybe… maybe a sleepover with his new school friends would be a more acceptable alternative than a rock concert. Maybe, he could ask for Tyler’s help. He was sure Tyler would help since Tyler seemed to like constantly thanking him for introducing him to his new boyfriend. Patrick was happy for them but he was getting pretty sick of Tyler being eternally in his debt… Maybe it was time to cash in that debt…

 

~

 

“That… sounds awesome,” Tyler exclaimed as they sat eating their sandwiches next to their instruments. Patrick’s finger were still twanging but he now had four chords and a basic blues scale under his belt.

“So you’ll help me? I just don’t even know if they’ll be ok with a sleepover if they’ve never met you before?”

“Patrick, my friend, don’t worry,” Tyler insisted, patting Patrick hard on the shoulder, “My mother is saint and everyone loves her. Just give your Mom, my home number and tell her to call my Mom to chat things over. You’ll be sleepover approved in no time at all.”

“But then won’t your mum be expecting me to stay over at your house then? How I do get out of that,” Patrick asked, his chest felt tight. Everything seemed to be piling up on top of him. When did his life become one of lies?

“Hmm…” Tyler replied, “I could always try and get them to leave the house for the night… I have an idea!”

Patrick bit his lip and watched Tyler intently as he pulled out his phone and dialled a contact.

“Hey bro, what’s up? Yeah, cool. Look… I have a big favour to ask. Do you think you could get Mum and Dad tickets to something on the twenty first? Yeah….”

Patrick looked at the guitar by his side and picked it up, placing it on his lap as he examined the headstock thoroughly. He gently plucked some strings as Tyler finished his conversation.

“Ok, so game plan… are you ready?”

Patrick nodded, “But remember, after this you have to stop thanking me for introducing you to Josh every two minutes, ok?”

“Ok but also thankyou once again, he’s so amazing-”

“Tyler!”

“Sorry,” Tyler exclaimed, “Ok game plan! You ask tonight about a sleepover and give my home number to your Mom and ask her to call my Mom. I’ll check in with my Mom and get her to promise me for this sleepover, like I’m gonna say we’ve wanted one for ages but we haven’t had a chance. Ok so then, about two days after, enters my brother with tickets to a show that Mom and Dad are gonna like. He’s gonna buy them as a present for them, and it’ll be one night only on the twenty first.”

“Hey, wait” Patrick interrupted, “How is your brother gonna find tickets like that?”

“Zach works at the theatre by the mall so he knows all the up and coming shows. He often gets Mom and Dad tickets for stuff he knows they like which hasn’t really come in handy until now… So yeah, Mom and Dad will wanna go but then I’ll remind them that they promised me this sleepover so they’ll let us have the sleepover on the night they’re going out so they won’t be home to supervise it. Voila! Pete will pick you up and you can go to the concert, have an amazing time and tell me all about it afterwards.”

Patrick blinked, “Ty, you’re amazing.”

Tyler blushed hard, “I’m just good at puzzles and like… creativity and stuff.”

Patrick smiled, “you’re so Josh’s type. I can see why you two got together.”  
Tyler tried to repress a giant grin by keeping his mouth closed, and instead went bright red. Patrick took a slow bite of his sandwich and looked at his phone. He had a new text from Pete.

_"Are you in school at the moment?"_

Patrick rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

_"Just wondering if you wanted to go for a drive?"_

Patrick sighed and put his phone down for a minute. He could see the direction he was headed in by being with Pete. He could see it quite clearly and yet he knew he wouldn't step a foot away. He wanted to go. He wanted to see Pete so badly he felt his chest ache. He wanted to be in his general vicinity and he felt almost as if he would die if he didn't.

"Dude, you look like you're in pain," Tyler exclaimed.

"I'm in love with Pete," Patrick whispered before he could stop himself.

_What the hell?_

Tyler raised his eyebrows and stared at Patrick for ten seconds before opening his mouth.

"Well... that's, um... interesting?"

Patrick rested his face in his hands and groaned.

"I'm so, so fucked."

Tyler patted his back gently, "Dude, its ok. It's not a bad thing."

"But it is," Patrick insisted, "It's a very bad thing. It's an incredibly bad thing. I feel like I'm being dragged underwater and have like zero choice in this at all and that is kind of freaking scary."

Tyler giggled, "Dude, you just described what falling in love is for everyone. You don't choose it, it just happens."

"No, I know that," Patrick insisted, "It's different. I... I... I don't know how to explain it, ok? It just feels different even know I have no other experiences to compare it to. It's just, Pete can be dang-"

Patrick paused. He really didn't need to say too much and get Tyler wondering what he meant. He really, really didn't need that at all but also he wanted nothing more than to blurt out the entire truth to Tyler and just finally tell someone else.

"Dangerous," Tyler finished.

Patrick sighed, "Yeah."

"He's not hurting you, is he?"

"No," Patrick exclaimed, "No, I just... it's hard to explain? He's definitely not hurting me. I just... he's from a different world and I'm not sure what I'm getting myself into."

Tyler frowned and Patrick dug himself another foot deeper into the hole he'd created.

"He's like... in the mafia or something? What do you mean, a different world?"

"I can't... I can't really explain it. He's just different," Patrick replied, hoping that Tyler would get it and mentally cursing himself for ever opening his mouth in the first place.

Tyler nodded but he was still frowning.

"Sounds kind of weird to me, Patrick," He admitted, "Please stay safe."

Patrick nodded. Stay safe. Yeah, that sounded a lot more manageable a few weeks ago than it did now. Staying safe? What even was that anymore?

"So how is Josh? I haven't texted him in a while."

"Well," Tyler said slowly, "He told his parents he's gay and they literally just shrugged and moved on. How easy was that? Like Zach and Maddie know and I'm pretty sure Jay would be cool with it but I don't know about my parents. Like they're nice people but... I just don't know, man."

Patrick nodded.

"I think if my Dad knew he would lose his shit and probably lock me in a room until the end of college. It's why I need to get out. My Mom would be cool but she could never be cool in front of Dad."

"So you've figured it out then," Tyler replied.

"Wait, what?"

"You've figured out your sexuality," Tyler stated, "You kind of just said you did."

Patrick blinked. Did he? He didn't know.

"I think I'm meaning more specifically in the case of me and Pete. I'm not sure overall though... I mean, girls are nice and all too, I guess."

Tyler just smiled as Patrick stuttered his way through his reply and Patrick kind of felt like wiping the smirk off his face.

"I don't know, dude!"

Tyler nodded, "Ok, then. I'm here for you, Patrick."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "Thank you? I still don't know, though."

"Don't pressure the poor kid," Lindsey said, walking in and dropping down next to them.

"How much of that conversation did you hear," Patrick shot, his stomach gurgling uncomfortably.

"Not much, just Tyler trying to pressure you into labelling your sexuality. Which, by the way, is totally not on, bro. You should know better," Lindsey had her full Mom voice going on and Patrick felt the slightest shred of sympathy for Tyler being on the receiving end of that.

Tyler hung his head in shame, "Sorry Patrick. I guess it was just easy for me to figure it out. Telling my parents? Well that's a whole other thing. I kind of want to scream it from the rooftops now that I'm with Josh but I realise that may not exactly be the greatest idea."

Patrick understood what he meant though. He kind of wanted to hold Pete's hand wherever he was. Had he ever held Pete's hand though, like just for the sake of holding it? He wasn't sure. He didn't think.

He really needed to hold Pete's hand and he needed to do so soon.

"I'm going to regret this," He sighed, pulling out his phone and beginning to type.

"What's going on," Tyler asked, moving over and reading Patrick's text over his shoulder, "Dude, you're going to skip school? Didn't your Dad just say he'd imprison you until you're like thirty if he ever caught you?"

Patrick stood up, a fierce and slightly terrifying determination sat like fire in his chest.

"Guess I'll just have to make sure he doesn't find out."

Patrick turned around and looked for a moment at the raised eyebrows of his friends before slinging his backpack around his shoulder.

"Got to live a little, I guess."

"Yeah," Lindsey whooped, "Go Trick! Be a little rebel. I love this!"

Patrick giggled, "Wow, my Dad would hate you, Lindsey. No offense."

Lindsey grinned wide, "By what you tell me about him, I wouldn't want it any other way."

His friends patted him on the back as he exited the classroom and made his way downstairs to the office. But before he got into the reception room he slipped into the admin toilets and carefully forged a note from his father. He hadn't spent half his life reading notes and corrections on his homework from his father to not be able to copy his handwriting at this point.

Patrick wasn't entirely sure where all this sudden flair for rebellion was coming from but it shot adrenaline through his veins and made him tap his foot as he finished copying his Dad's sharp signature and tucking back into his school diary.

As Patrick headed out to the carpark where he saw the black Camaro waiting he was suddenly under no illusion about whose influence had inspired his behaviour.

Pete lounged back in his seat, a pair of black ray bans covering his eyes and a band that sounded like something he'd seen Josh head bang to on numerous occasions, was blaring through his speakers. He grinned as he locked eyes with Patrick and Patrick his chest go tight again. Goddamnit. He grinned back and hopped into the car. Before Pete shift the gear Patrick reached over and grabbed his hand. It was warm and exactly the perfect fit for his. He studied the short nails that looked as if Pete nibbled on them at times and ran his fingers over the darker olive tone that was his knuckles. The pad of Patrick's thumb ran soft circles over Pete's thumb.

The car was peacefully, soothingly still despite the music still pumping through the speakers. This stillness extended to Patrick's chest and he was so calm that he felt like he might be able to fall asleep right there and then.

Patrick slowly dragged his eyes away from Pete's hand and made eye contact with Pete. Pete's eyes was more glazed than normal and he had an almost indescribable look in his eyes that made Patrick lower abdomen squirm like a dancing flame.

Patrick took a deep steadying breath and before he could make a move Pete had ripped his hand away, moving the car into gear and pulling out onto the road at high speed. Patrick, trying not to take the whiplash in a bad way, sat back silent in his seat and watched where Pete was going. They drove for ten minutes before they pulled onto Joe and Pete's street. Patrick's heart began to pound as the garage roller door closed behind them and they sat in the artificial yellow light that shone down from the garage globe.

And then Pete was kissing him.

Patrick hands climbed over Pete's arms and shoulder trying to find a firm grip of any kind. Pete cupped Patrick's face with both hands and kissed at his bottom lip, gently nudging at Patrick's lips with his tongue. Patrick, heart beating a thousand miles an hour and feeling as if his lungs had long since abandoned any reasonable function, could only consent to Pete's action. He gasped loudly as Pete nipped gently at his lip and groaned as Pete climbed out of his seat and onto Patrick's lap. Patrick's hand fell lower onto the small exposed slip of skin that sat between the waste of Pete's jeans and the hem of his t-shirt that had ridden up his back as he climbed out of his seat. He gently ran his fingers over the warm skin and watch with a lot of satisfaction as a shiver ran through Pete's entire being.

"Wait, Pete," Patrick almost felt physical pain at having to put a stop of the current events but he needed to get out of this seatbelt which was slowly beginning to strangle him. He unclicked the belt and opened the car door.

"Maybe it's cool for skinny little you to make out with someone in a car but It's a little bit more difficult for someone of my size to do so-"

Patrick's sentence was cut off with a flurry of movement and vision and he suddenly found himself still again but in an entirely different setting. He waited a moment for his stomach to catch up with him.

"What the hell was that," He wheezed. Pete lay on the bed behind him, a grin across his face.

"I just carried you up the stairs... bridal style," Pete added, and Patrick tried hard to look annoyed, a grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"If you want me to make out with you it's probably best not to make me barf, you idiot," Patrick shot, still trying and failing terribly to keep a straight face. Pete still lay back on the bed, one arm propping him up and his smile covering his whole face and extending into the creases near his eyes.

"I really really hope you don't barf, Trick. Because I really do want to make out with you," He said, his voice lowering a level and suddenly the fire in Patrick's stomach shot up a temperature.

Patrick bit his lip and climbed over until he was hovering to the side of Pete. He looked down at the beautiful creature beside him, daring it all to suddenly disappear and drop him back into the reality with the impact of a freight train. He leaned down slowly and placed a slow kiss at the corner of Pete's mouth. Pete smiled softened into something that looked more like adoration. He held up a finger and placed it against Patrick's lips.

"Oh, and for the record, we can very well still make out in the car. Your size is not a problem, in fact..."

Patrick giggled loudly as Pete flipped him over onto his back and his hands suddenly shot under Patrick' school shirt, gently rubbing over his stomach.

"You're so beautiful, Trick," Pete whispered, unbuttoning Patrick's shirt and pushing the white material away until the pale skin of Patrick's stomach was completely exposed. Patrick laid his head back and closed his eyes as he felt his cheeks flood with red. He heart started beating fast and he wanted nothing more than to reach down and cover his stomach up again.

That was until Pete started placing small little kissed all over Patrick's belly. He started just near the top of Patrick's ribs until he hovered over the waistband of Patrick's trousers.

"So, so beautiful," He whispered, before gently slipping a hand underneath them.

Patrick threw his head back again, hissing in anticipation as Pete trailed fingers lightly just below his waistband. He wasn't moving low though and in all honesty Patrick thought he might scream if Pete didn't do something soon-

Both Pete and Patrick sat up suddenly as the front doorbell to the house rang shrilly.

"What the hell," Pete muttered. Straightening out his clothes as both he and Patrick headed down the stairs, "Stay around the corner, Trick. I'll see who it is."

Patrick waited around the corner in the doorway to the kitchen, ears peeled for the opening of the door. He desperately tried to straighten his pants out as he listened.

“Hey Pete, we’re staying here for a couple of days until our concert” several male voices rang out.

“Oh, hey guys…” Pete sounded really surprised but not unhappy…

Patrick walked out into the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of who was standing at the front door.

A group of six guys stood in the doorway looked up in surprised at Patrick and he stared at them in disbelief.

“Holy shit, Pete,” He said out loud.

“So Joe totally didn’t tell me you were staying here at all,” Pete said.

“Well yeah, the motel we booked totally screwed us over the last second so we were like ‘who do we know in Chicago’ and Joe was totally cool with it,” The taller man with a large brown curly afro spoke up from the front.

Everyone except for Pete was staring at Patrick.

“Oh yeah, where the fuck are my manners,” Pete turned around to face Patrick, “Guys, this is Patrick. Patrick this is-”

“My Chemical Romance,” Patrick finished in disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fucking sorry. I have no reasonable excuse for taking so long on this update i'm just incredibly lazy. But in other news I saw Twenty One Pilots in concert on the 25th and it was my 21st birthday yesterday.  
> Tell me where your thoughts are at!!!!


	13. Love At First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick meets his idols and then hears some concerning news at school.
> 
> Pete takes Patrick for a drive to a place from his childhood.

“We sure are, but we have names too,” The short heavily tattooed man piped up from behind the fro man.

“Frank,” The man with the long black floppy hair admonished him, "Be nice."

"Sorry, dude. It's nice to meet you," Frank grumbled slightly.

Patrick couldn't help but smile a little. He could instantly tell that Frank was cool if not slightly intimidating.

"So where is this Dewees? Thought I might actually get to meet him when you guys came on tour," Pete asked.

"He's ah.... not exactly ready to be around humans for long periods of time just yet," another man from the back of the group came forward and gripped Pete in a tight hug. He was tall and lanky with short dark brown which was cut into a small Mohawk. He looked eerily similar to the black haired dude who had spoken to Frank.

"Patrick, this dude here is Mikey Way, on Bass and," Patrick suddenly realised exactly who the black haired dude was, "Gerard Way, lead singer. Patrick is a huge fan of you guys."

"I'm Ray, on guitar," the fro stepped forward and shook Patrick's hand. Patrick could only smile and nod.

"Also I'm Brian, the manager of this ramshackle band," a dude with short cropped brown hair walked forward and shook Patrick's hand.

Patrick was beginning to feel a little faint. Pete walked up to him and placed a firm hand on the small of his back.

"You ok, Patty?"

"Just a little star struck," Patrick finally admitted, "I kind of absolutely adore your music."

The five guys smiled in Patrick's direction.

"So... I'm assuming from your comment earlier than you guys are vamp- I mean immortals as well," Patrick asked hesitantly.

"Oh thank god you told him finally," Mikey exclaimed, "I was gonna ask you later if he knew."

"Main guest bedroom is mine and Gerard’s," Frank screamed and shot up at the stairs so fast that all Patrick saw was Frank literally disappear into thin air. His head was spinning slightly.

Patrick blinked hard, "Uh yeah, I know now."

"Well that would have been frightening to deal with. You know, I didn't know about immortals until I woke up from being turned into one actually. Gerard got turned first and then, you know, failed to actually tell me before he decided he needed to have his little bro along for the ride... I forgave him eventually."

"Yeah, after thirty years," Gerard muttered.

Mikey elbowed Gerard in the shoulder. Gerard took a step back and rubbed his shoulder painfully. Patrick wondered just how hard you would have to do that to get a reaction from an immortal and then firmly decided he was happy not knowing.

"So Patrick," Pete began, "Ray is the sire of most of this group. I haven't really explained to you the connotations of that but I will-"

"-Oh, can I," Frank said, materialising next to Gerard again. Patrick realised he'd obviously probably just ran there but he did it so fast-

"Just don't scare him please, Frank," Gerard pleaded, "Otherwise Pete will fight you."

Pete made no move to deny this allegation. Frank stepped forward, grabbed Patrick's hand and dragged him into the living room. Patrick sunk down onto the modular couch and decided this was the nicest couch he'd ever sat on. It was a dark cream coloured suede. Patrick had seen it when he'd been here to study before but they'd sat at the table and not here.

Frank lay down on the couch next to Patrick and placed his feet on Patrick's lap. Patrick froze, not quite sure how to deal with this sudden absolute comfort that Frank seemed to have with him.

"Don't worry, my shoes are clean," He chuckled, "So, just found out about us but don't know much right?"

"Uh, yeah. That's pretty much it," Patrick replied. He felt a shiver of excitement take hold in his chest. He knew that this whole situation was strange and he would be lying if he wasn't glad to get a few of his question answered.

"So Joe is Pete's sire right," Patrick asked.

"Yeah," said Frank, "But Joe prefers to call them brothers. I don't know why, he's just weird like that."

"Ok," Patrick said, making a mental note of such an important bit of information.

"I've never met Joe's sire and he doesn't speak about him ever, so like, I probably wouldn't mention that either," Frank said, catching on to Patrick's mental note taking, "Also, Gerard and I are together. Ray and Mikey are together and OH! Before I tell you this, don't get mad because it's over and was definitely a one off thing. Mikey and Pete had a fling together in the summer of seventy nine but they both figured out that they didn't like each other like that and were better off as friends... and now he has you!"

Patrick couldn't deny that this information made his feel a little strange but he wanted to give Pete the benefit of the doubt here. Plus Mikey seemed nice but also potentially scary as fuck. Who was Patrick kidding, they also seemed nice but also scary as fuck. Especially Ray... Patrick felt like even though he seemed the nicest of the group, he was definitely fiercely protective of his clan... clan? Group? Family?

"What's the proper term for a group of immortals?"

"Oh, clan. You can call it family too, same thing really. But clan is the general go to," Frank replied, sighing, "Seems like you guys are gonna have a little Chicago clan soon though."

"What," said Patrick, raising his eyebrows.

"Like, when you get turned, right? Joe, Pete and you. Three immortals constitutes a clan," Frank said calmly, as if he was stating the colour of the sky.

Patrick's heart began beating fast in his chest, "I don't know, Pete hasn't said anything- we haven't talked- I just found out about immortals I haven't even considered that yet!"

Pete was suddenly in front of Frank and yelling.

"What the hell, dude. I asked you not to fucking scare him!"

"Hey, I'm sorry. The way you talked on the phone I thought maybe if he knew then you guys would have talked because you seem pretty serious!"

"Well-"

"Stop!"

Patrick found himself on his feet.

"It's ok Pete, Frank didn't know, ok."

"I do have foot in mouth disease," Frank admitted, looked towards Pete, "I'm sorry, Pete. Are you ok, Patrick?"

"Yeah," Patrick stated, sitting down again, "Tell me about the sire thing."

"Well, I won't go into detail about how to turn someone but basically once they're awake the sire and the changeling are intrinsically connected. It's almost like a sixth sense. It is deeper per the emotion shared between the two so like if you haven't got a great relationship with your sire the bond would be weaker and stuff. It's useful in the early days when the changeling is like totally reliant on the sire to help them control themselves and come to terms with their new body and abilities and stuff."

Patrick nodded. So Joe and Pete were like psychically connected then? That was certainly interesting. So many questions were popping into Patrick's head but mostly his brain was just fixating on the whole assumption that Frank had made that he would be turned. He sort of felt like an idiot for admitting it but he hadn't really given much thought to it. His whole brain had sort of been fixating on the whole 'this is real' instead of the obvious connotations of how this would affect Patrick himself.

How do you even begin to think of such a thing?

Patrick could feel panic rising in his chest and pushed the thought out of his mind.

"I think that's enough on that subject for now," said Pete, placing a gentle hand on Patrick's shoulder. Patrick took a deep breath and felt a giant weight seem to leave his body through the point where Pete's hand connected with his body.

"So when's Joe getting home?"

"He generally doesn't get until five or so," Pete replied, "So we have plenty of time to catch up."

"Actually, I should get back to school," Patrick piped up.

"But you're signed out, aren't you," Pete raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah for a single doctor’s appointment, they're probably expecting me back. I should go," Patrick walked out of the living and walked into the garage to retrieve his backpack from Pete's car. When he walked back into the hallway, Frank was standing there.

"I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to cause such a mess. Let me drive you back to school?"

Patrick didn't know why but he intrinsically trusted Frank. He nodded and followed the guy out the front.

"We're basically the same height, you know. Which is nice for a change," Frank laughed.

"Yeah, the short jokes get old after a while," Patrick admitted, smiling and climbing into the front of the white van the clan had arrived in, "So when is your show?"

"On Saturday, at the Empty Bottle. It's small but we're not pulling a big crowd just yet," Frank admitted, "We'll pull you guys backstage though, get a prime view."

"I look forward to it, Pete wasn't joking when I said I was a huge fan. I love you album so much. I'm not sure I've listened to much else since I got."

Frank's face lit up, "Thanks man, I'm glad you love it! Do you have a favourite track?"

"I can't pick just one," Patrick groaned, "I love them all. Demolition Lovers is epic though."

"Hmm, good choice," said Frank sagely, "That's one of my favourites too. It's so good. I love playing it."

"I love cubicles though, it’s also one of my top favourites," Patrick added.

"Funny thing, I went through three strings on my guitar while trying to record that. I think I probably went a bit hard into it, but it was worth it for the outcome of that track," Frank giggled as he pulled onto the highway, "Where are we going by the way? I just realised I have no idea where your school is."

"Oh, it's-" Patrick navigated as Frank drove and he tried to push the nagging wad of anxiety that attempting to crawl back into his chest now that he wasn't around Pete anymore.

They arrived at the school and Patrick thanked Frank and Frank gave him a hard one armed hug that knocked the breath out of him before he walked back into the grounds. He checked his phone and saw his next and final class about to begin in ten minutes. He rushed into admin, did a hasty sign in and made it to chemistry right as his class mates began piling into the classroom. He immersed into the crowd and took his usual seat. His lab partner Eliza had only just pulled out her books when Mr Ross came walking into the classroom at a fast pace followed by a police officer. Patrick raised an eyebrow and Eliza shrugged.

"Hi class, I'm sorry but we're not starting our lesson straight away as we have Officer Archer here who needs to ask you guys a few questions. He is making his way around the school to find out as much as information as he can about a missing student so if you could please be as honest and helpful as you can be."

Archer stopped forward, he was a thin leanly muscle man in his late thirties with short cropped blonde hair, olive skin and green eyes. Patrick could easily see this dude hitting the gym every morning religiously.

"Thanks Mr Ross. Hi everyone, I'm Officer Archer with the Chicago PD and yesterday the parents of senior student Brent Wilson filed a missing person’s report with our department. They have not seen him in four days and no one else has either as far as we know. We have people in school for today to allow any students who may know anything or are friends who have had contact with him, to come forward and give us any information that may help us determine his whereabouts. We are concerned for his safety as there was a small amount of blood found at the scene. I am telling you this mainly because it's only a small amount of blood therefore we don't believe it's any sort of life threatening injury but it may be enough for him to approach someone he knows to help him. We have alerts at hospitals and medical centres. So if any of you guys know of anything or hear of anything please see one of the officers on campus today or contact the Chicago PD. If you don't feel comfortable making yourself known we do have an anonymous hotline set up, the number is available on our website."

Officer Archer finished his speech and Patrick felt a shiver go down his spine. Brent had only ever been a complete dick to him since he'd come to this school but Patrick didn't wish kidnapping or harm upon him. He felt weird though. Blood found at the scene?

Patrick's brain was in complete overdrive after the afternoon he'd had. His brain was screaming that obviously had something to do with vampires but he knew it was stupid to jump to that conclusion. There was literally a billion different explanations for the blood found in his room.

Patrick scolded himself mentally and watched as the Police officer left.

"That was weird," He whispered to Eliza.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Like I knew Brent was a dick but like I didn't think anyone would want to kidnap him or hurt him. Though I did hear a rumour that Kirralee Mathers found him and Shane smoking pot behind the gym," Eliza confessed.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Patrick said truthfully.

"Ok, class. No back to them matter at hand. In the next couple of weeks I'll be preparing the task sheet for you group projects which will be worth forty percent of grade. So, basically, this is really important guys. This small homework sheet I’m handing will give you a brief example of one the tasks you could include into your project..."

Patrick began thinking of the blood in Brent's room. He hadn't seen it but he suddenly pictured his own room. He saw his own bed covered in blood, soaked through and left to dry until his caked into brown. Was it his own blood? He didn't know but he suddenly felt quite nauseous.

"So I reckon that Ross will put us together for the group project," Eliza interrupted his macabre picture show.

"Uh yeah, probably," Patrick admitted, looking up at the sound of the lab door opening again.

Mr Urie walked into the room quickly, looked right at Mr Ross and then headed straight into Ross's office. Mr Ross gave one glance back at the class before he followed right after him.

Patrick was frowning. There was definitely something going on there. He often saw them walking the halls between classes talking together. Like he knew that there was a possibility it was just a professional thing but it seemed just like it was more. They almost seemed as if they were planning something.

Patrick looked up again to the lab door opening. His eyebrows almost jumped off as his forehead as he witnessed none other than Joe walk into the classroom and then straight into Mr Ross's office without even giving Patrick a single glance.

Ok, what was going on? Was there a teacher's meeting going about Brent being missing? If so, why on earth would they have it in Mr Ross's office and only the three of them? Brent was a student in all three teachers classes, Patrick believed... but still it didn't quite make sense.

"It seems to be Teacher gossip time," One girl at the back of the classroom remarked. There was a quiet chatter amongst the students after that as Mr Ross hadn't actually given them any clear instruction other than considering the example task sheet. Patrick pulled out his algebra homework and began looking over it while he waited. The task sheet Ross had given them was pretty much identical to the one in text book that his father had made him do a month ago.

Patrick continued his algebra to block out the blood and puzzling until the bell rang signalling the end of the period. He collected his things up just as Ryan exited the office just in time to dismiss them. Patrick had just turned the corner near the library when the world was suddenly spinning everywhere and he found himself inside an empty classroom, Joe standing in front of him.

Before Joe could speak however, Patrick was speaking.

"I know I'm completely and utterly jumping to conclusions here but I think Brent's disappearance may have something to do with Immortals. I have evidence to back this up it's just a gut feeling."

Joe stared at him for a second.

"You're right, I agree. I spent the lesson in the officer talking with Brendon and Ryan - I mean, Mr Urie and Mr Ross because well... Brent lives next door to Mr Ross and Brendon is having an affair with Ryan and Brendon is worried that it may be his scent hanging around the property that lured in an unknown immortal because Brent's room definitely has an immortal scent in it."

Patrick head was spinning again but he was completely stationary.

"Wait- Mr Urie and Mr Ross are having an affair? I fucking KNEW IT! Also, MR URIE IS AN IMMORTAL?"

Patrick's throat felt hoarse from all his whisper screaming but he really didn't care. A shitload of stuff suddenly made sense right now.

"Wait, why is Mr Urie here too, like is he like an old friend of yours or something?"

Joe rolled his eyes, "I wish it were as simple as that. I'll explain it to you one day but yeah, they're having an affair except that Ryan is human and Brendon very much isn't."

"So it's sort of like me and Pete then," Patrick suggested.

Joe paused, looking at Patrick carefully, "It's not the same, I don' think. For instance, they haven't got the same connection that you and Pete have and secondly I'm trying to convince Ryan to break up with Brendon because it's probably not very good for him. I mean, you and Pete are different you have a connection. Pete couldn't hurt you even if he wanted to, whereas Ryan doesn't have that safety clause with Brendon."

"Brendon seems nice though, like I don't think he's going to go out and kill Ryan if he's really into him," Patrick reasoned... though he wasn't sure if it was more aimed towards Joe or himself. He still wasn't entirely sure about the whole Pete never being able to hurt him thing. Maybe it was just his self-preservation... or maybe it was all the talk and thought of blood. He couldn't be sure of anything.

Joe sighed, "Patrick, I know you like me and you've said I'm one of your favourite teachers... well I've killed people. Pete has killed people, Patrick. I'm sorry to drop this on you but Pete has killed a lot of people, in fact for a while he was a bit of a binge killer and it almost became a full blown problem. It's why we sort of settled back in Chicago and got a fresh start. I told you from the moment we first talked that I do everything I do for Pete well he needed to get a fresh start so I go this job and we moved back. I'm sure Pete's already told you but we're both originally from Illinois."

"Yeah he did and I know... I know what you guys being immortal means and I also know I need to learn to deal with it if I'm going to stay with Pet-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there because I know you need to get your last class and I also need to get to mine but like, don't stress too much about the whole Brent thing. Brendon and I are looking into it... also doesn't Brent bully you?"

"Doesn't mean I wish him to be like kidnapped or killed! Like yeah, like maybe a punch in the face but that's about it," Patrick as they walked out of the classroom.

"You're a good kid, Patrick," Joe said fondly, patting the cap on Patrick's head and heading off down the hall. Patrick stood in the hallway for a moment, completely at loss as to what he was meant to do now. Where had he been going before this conversation? Oh yeah, the Library...

 

~~

~~

 

The next two days passed rather uneventfully for Patrick as he continued with school work and Joe was busy being detective. He hadn't heard a single thing from anyone until he was sitting at a desk in the local college library on Friday afternoon and he suddenly felt a whoosh of air and hands on his shoulders.

"What you working on," Pete whispered.

"English assignment, Joe sets interesting tasks," Patrick replied.

"I loved English in high school, it was my favourite subject. Did you know I won a poetry award in high school? Super awesome achievement," Pete rolled his eyes.

"That is actually cool though, Pete. Don't put yourself down," Patrick insisted, "You should show me some of your work sometime."

"I could probably dig something," Pete said thoughtfully, "But right now I was rather thinking about another thing we could do."

Patrick sighed and smirked down at the desk.

"Does it involve your car and making out in it?"

"Yes."

"Well then I'm in."

Pete drove faster than ever felt safe but Patrick was admittedly getting somewhat used it. It was almost like life threatening mileage was just part of the Pete package now and Patrick was in for the full ride. They parked at a look out that overlooked a rather forested part of Lake Michigan. There was no mistake that they were still in the suburbs but the small group of thick pines between the car park and houses and road made it seem like they were cut off from all civilisation.

"It's beautiful here," Patrick said, sighing out a relaxed breath.

"Yeah," Pete acknowledged, "Used to go fishing here when I was a kid. The little nature trail behind us has kind of preserved the look and honestly I don't think it's changed much at all. It still looks pretty much the same. Sometimes I come here and I can sort of pretend, you know."

Patrick nodded, because while he couldn't begin to comprehend being in Pete's situation, he could comprehend the pretending thing. He could comprehend finding something that allowed you to forget for a little bit and clinging to it like it was the most precious resource in the whole world.

This little untouched piece of Patrick's childhood was a precious resource to him, that much was obvious.

"Sure you wanna make out here, then," Patrick questioned, it sounded a bit weird.

"Oh yeah, Nah. I'm cool with that because I wanted to share this with you anyway. Got to keep making new memories, you know."

Patrick nodded and suddenly he was lying on his back across the backseat of the car.

"You know, one day you're going to move me fast like that and put a joint out of place or break something."

"Pfft, no I won't. I’m incredibly careful," Pete insisted, tearing the bottom of Patrick t-shirt slightly as he removed it.

"You were saying?"

"Ssh," Pete put a finger to Patrick's mouth before leaning down and replacing it with his lips, "Want you so bad, Patty. Been thinking about you all day and all night."

"All night," Patrick replied, gasping a little for breath as Pete began attacking his jaw with kisses, "that's sounds fun."

"You have no idea," Pete growled, sitting up for a moment to pull off his own shirt and before Patrick knew it Pete was pulling off his jeans until he was left in nothing but his boxers.

Patrick took a deep breath as he admired Pete's toned and olive skinned body. Even for someone who was meant to be pale as hell Patrick could make out some sort of South American heritage in there somewhere. He'd have to ask him about it one day, but definitely not now.

Pete's hand was on Patrick semi hard cock and he was making sure work of pulling away Patrick's jeans and underwear for easier access.

"Cum so many times thinking of you," Pete breathed as he began jacking Patrick off roughly. Patrick felt like almost crying at the stimulation, "I know you've came thinking of me too."

Patrick couldn't argue with that statement.

"Jesus, Pete. What are you up to," Patrick hissed as Pete jacked him off a little gentler. He then stopped and reached down to fully rid himself of his boxers and suddenly Pete Wentz was sitting on top of Patrick in all his fully naked glory.

"I want you Patrick and I know you're a virgin and I don't know if you're ready for it yet but I just thought if you want to... we can. We can ease into it slowly, baby. I'll take care of you."

Patrick breathed hard and his whole body ached with arousal. It wasn't as if their many make out sessions, some ending in quick but satisfying hand jobs hadn't been awesome for Patrick but he had felt like maybe... maybe he was ready for more. He didn't know but he honestly reckoned Pete had been reading his mind on that one. But still, Patrick was a virgin and this was still... a big thing for him.

"Ok, but only if you have a condom. Like I realise that immortals can't get diseases... well I assume you can't but... I don't know, I'd feel more comfortable with it," Patrick said, scarcely believing that he was able to say these things out loud. His chest ached with anxiety not over the idea but just speaking out loud and discussing it was huge and scary and Patrick just sort of figured he wouldn't be as ready as he realised he was.

"Of course, Patty. Whatever is gonna make you comfortable, although for the record we can't catch any disease... STD's included."

Patrick smiled and reached up to pull Pete down to his lips. They met half way in a kiss which deepened as Pete took hold of Patrick's dick again and began stroking it more slowly this time. Patrick was squirming at the stimulation again as Pete ran a thumb over the leaking slit. He then backed up until he was kneeling between Patrick's leg and without warning leant down and took the head of Patrick's cock into his mouth. Patrick let out a broken gasp which turned into an audible groan as Pete began sucking and licking just on the tip of the head. Patrick felt like he was going to squirm out of his skin and cum at any second, all at once. 

Pete suddenly reached into the console near the gearbox and pulled out a sealed condom. He placed on Patrick's chest as climbed back up until he was sitting at Patrick's stomach, Patrick's cock brushing attentively against the flush of Pete’s ass. Patrick instinctively rested his hands on Pete's hips, but they didn't stay there long before Pete picked up Patrick left hand and brought it up to his mouth.

"Help me out here, baby," He said softly, before he opened his mouth and began sucking on Patrick's fingers. Patrick's other hand dug into Pete's hips so hard that it would have bruised any normal human but he couldn't help it. As Patrick lay there, watching Pete so damn aroused that he had turned into this sensual mindless creature that wanted only to please Patrick... well Patrick couldn't help but feel like he wanted nothing more than to bruise up the smooth beautiful olive skin... lay claim to Pete in a way that his screamed through his very being.

Pete was fucking _his_ , and Patrick felt like letting everyone out there know it.

Pete, having coated Patrick's fingers with his saliva to a level he deemed sufficient lifted up his hips and brought Patrick's hand down until he could feel his fingertips brushing against the tight ring of muscles.

"Help me, baby," Pete repeated again, arching his back as Patrick gently probed the tip of one slippery finger through the ring of muscle. Patrick pushed until his finger was halfway submerged before he gently crooked it at an angle and Pete gasped.

"Another, another," he gasped quickly in a way that Patrick knew he was incapable of ignoring. He brought up the second finger and pushed his way in, listening to the small little gasps escaping Pete's mouth. He waited a moment before crooking his fingers.

“Fuck,” Pete cried out, slumping forward and pressing his hands to Patrick’s chest. Patrick could do nothing but stare at Pete’s open mouth. He wished he could reach up and kiss it.

Pete took another minute before he nodded and sat up further, Patrick’s fingers slipping easily out of his stretched hole. Pete sat back on Patrick’s legs and gave Patrick’s dick another few hard tugs. He ripped open the condom and Patrick groaned as Pete slipped it on.

“You sure about this, Trick,” Pete whispered, leaning down and placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick laid his head back, closing his eyes and nodding shakily.

“Trick, baby?”

“Please Pete,” Patrick voice clouded with lust, “Please do it. Please, please, please.”

Pete grinned, “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Patrick reached up and pulled Pete by the nape of his neck down into a hard kiss. Lips pressing hard until Patrick was sure his lips would bruise. He could feel a shake in Pete’s hand as he lined up Patrick’s dick against his hole.

“Need you,” Pete choked as he slowly pushed down. He didn’t stop until Patrick was balls deep inside him.  Patrick felt almost like he was choking, the sensation of Pete’s warm heat enveloping his dick so completely. He watched porn, and he’d read and heard about this… but experiencing it was something else entirely.

Nothing really could do this justice.

“Holy-”

Pete was suddenly holding Patrick’s hips in an iron tight grip.

“Just give me a moment,” Pete panted. And Patrick was suddenly very glad for the tight grip on his hips because right now he was almost twitching to move. He needed to move. He needed some sort of friction-

Pete took a deep breath and sat up far enough that only the head of Patrick’s cock was still inside of him. Patrick’s hand, grasping for some sort of grip, found the sheets below him and clenched them tight in his fists.

“Pete…”

Pete then slid back home. Slowly, almost achingly slowly, beginning to move in a way that Patrick was pretty sure made his lungs feel totally useless and his whole body feel simultaneously as loose as jelly and as tight as a coiled spring.

“Pete, please, faster,” Patrick huffed. His voice tight and short breathed. He looked up and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Pete’s eyes were glowing a bright red.

Pete heeded Patrick’s words and began riding him faster. The slapping of skin and the short stuttered breaths heaving out of both of them sounded like a hypnotising trance to Patrick as he already felt his stomach begin to coil.

Patrick reached up and begin jerking the warm heaviness of Pete’s cock. Only stopping briefly to spit on his hand before he was started again, urging Pete forward and pulling small noises from the back of his throat.

“Pete, Pete,” Patrick prayed, “Pete, I’m gonna-”

Pete reached down and joined Patrick’s hand on his cock. The two hands working up a fast friction. Patrick could feel Pete tightening around him and he couldn’t control it any longer. He was bucking his hips up to meet Pete halfway. He was on the edge. He was almost-

Pete cried out Patrick’s name as he came hard, warmth splattering across Patrick’s stomach. Patrick could only hear Pete and Pete’s laboured breathing and soon he clenched his eyes closed as he came harder than he ever thought possible.

There was moment where the world seemed to be frozen in a hazy balance.

Patrick slowly opened his eyes and found his eyes meeting Pete’s in an unspoken contract. Pete’s eyes had faded from bright red to the darkest black. He was looking down at Patrick with an almost unreadable expression...

Except Patrick knew. Patrick knew exactly.

He reached up and pulled Pete into a hard kiss. His breathing was slowing, along with his heart beats, to a normal level again. He kissed Pete on the corner of the mouth, then on the jaw and then on the shoulder blade. His hands moved to the back of Pete’s head and Patrick pulled Pete’s head down so he could feel the immortals’ lips against the point where his shoulder met his neck.

“Do it.”

Pete’s fangs pierced through Patrick’s skin and there was red and white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> This one was a tough one to finish. Everytime I tried to finish the end scene i couldn't because i was around people and I've been super busy lately, haha. I can't stand the risk of someone reading over my shoulder while i write nsfw stuff. 
> 
> I also initially planned for this to happen much later in the story but then as I was writing it just sort of... barged in and demanded to be written right here and who am i to deny you guys some smut?
> 
> Apologies also if it's super cringe worthy, I did try and I felt a bit overdramatic but come on... this is Pete Wentz we're talking about.
> 
> The next chapter is the concert! Get keen! Please comment. Please please comment.
> 
> Thankyou to everyone for your love and loyalty :)


	14. Codeine 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going on with Patrick Stump?

 

 

There are moments in your life, small pinpoints, where time seems to run differently. Things that might initially seem insignificant until you look back on them later and realise it was a turning point. This moment was not insignificant but Patrick was a firm believer that virginity shouldn’t be a measure to judge a person’s worth or that it changed who a person was at heart.

This was more than his virginity, though. This was about Pete. This was all about Pete. How could it not be?

Patrick was quickly realising that his brain and emotions had completely abandoned all reason and other subject matter. A weird continuous chorus of Pete, Pete, Pete, Pete…

“You still with me, Trick?”

Patrick had his head resting on Pete's chest, one arm slung over his torso, his eyes resting gently shut and his breathing deep. They lay tangled up on the back seat of Pete’s car, a scratchy old blanket chucked haphazardly over the top of their still naked bodies. Patrick was never completely comfortable with his body, the extra pudge here and there bothered him even though he tried not to think about it.

“I wanna sleep,” Patrick yawned. Flinching at the sharp pain still pulsing from his neck.

“Well we can’t here, someone could see us-”

“PETE” Patrick hissed, without even moving, “That means anyone could have just seen us. What the hell!”

“They would have seen me, not you,” Pete reasoned, his shrugs infuriating Patrick further.

“Can we please go somewhere with a little bit more privacy?”

Pete looked at Patrick for a long moment

Patrick stared out into the trees surrounding the lookout. He was not noticing any movement.

“Pete-”

“I'm sorry.”

Patrick blinked. Pete looked like a kicked puppy.

“I should have taken you somewhere safer and more private I just thought that this might be adventurous and romantic and I REALLY wanted to make you happy. I didn't want to make you nervous or upset.”

Pete said all this very fast and it took Patrick’s brain a while to translate the babble into English… and how to respond?

“Are you ok, Pete?”

“Ha,” Pete barked, “I should be asking you that.”

Pete was right. Patrick felt like he did need to be asked that right now but something was obviously bothering Pete.

“Pete-”

“I just wanted to make you happy.”

Patrick sighed, “Pete, you did. I just freaked out over the whole public exposure thing. But you did. I can't even begin to explain it.”

Petes face lightened minutely and Patrick couldn't help himself. He leaned over, grasped the back of Pete’s head and pressed their lips together hard. His mouth opened slightly in a pant while their lips were still connected. As Patrick pulled away Pete pulled him against his chest and held him gently. The contact of their naked skin creating an aura of warmth and togetherness that could be replicated by nothing else. Patrick felt himself take a deep breath and seemingly sink into Pete, closing his eyes as he went. Even despite the niggling vulnerability of their current position Patrick felt like he was fighting sleep.

“As much as I'd hate to move you. You did say you wanted to go somewhere a bit more private,” Pete spoke.

“You're the one who hugged me,” Patrick reasoned.

“Yeah, that sentence was to convince both of us.”

Patrick let out a small smile but Pete didn't miss it. He grinned back, before sitting them both back up and reaching for their clothes.

“Oh crap,” Patrick whispered looking at the massive bloodstain on his shirt. He was grateful that it was a casual dark blue t shirt and not one of his school shirts. He could easily hide this from his mother.

“Shit, fuck, we must have been laying on it when I… ya know.”

Oh, Patrick knew.

“I’ll just wash it and it'll be fine,” Patrick sighed.

“Hang on,” Pete grabbed his shirt, and pulled a plastic bag out from underneath the backseat. He stuffed the shirt into the bag and tied a knot in the top.

“You seem a little… efficient at this.”

Pete raised both eyebrows and nodded, “Yep.”

“Suppose it makes sense,” Patrick muttered to himself, as Pete climbed back into the front seat. He cranked the engine back into gear and patted the leather on the front seat.

“Shotgun, Pattycakes.”

“But I’m not wearing a shirt,” Patrick protested.

“You don’t need to,” Pete said, “You actually need to never wear a shirt, ok. Please do that for me?”

“Um, wow. No,” Patrick exclaimed, even as he began climbing into the front seat, “That is so goddamn cheesy, you know that?”

Pete grinned, “Cheesy, but true.”

“Whatever,” Patrick muttered, blushing as he climbed into the front seat

In the grand scheme of things, the car ride wasn't that bad. Patrick knew that everyone was probably concentrating on the road themselves and wouldn't blink twice at a chubby shirtless teenage boy in the front seat of a car.

People have definitely seen stranger things in Chicago.

Patrick opened his mouth to speak before closing it again.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” Patrick muttered.

“Dude, tell me.”

Patrick sighed.

“I know it sounds incredibly stupid but I thought I'd feel different afterwards?”

Pete nodded. “I get it, but honestly people make out sex to be some big monumentally life changing moment when really, it’s just a thing people do and it doesn't change you as a person.”

Patrick nodded and then considered Pete, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes,” Pete said earnestly, “I'm glad you're ok and enjoyed yourself and I'm certainly ok and enjoyed myself.”

“Pete, I'm not gonna turn into a vampire now you've bit me, will I?”

Pete blinked, “no, oh my god, uh, no that's not how it works.”

“Can I ask how it does work?”

Pete sighed.

“I don't actually know all the details but I know it's not that.”

“Sorry, but how do you not know? Weren't you there when you got turned,” Patrick questioned.

Pete gripped the steering wheel tight.

“I… I was bleeding out when Joe found me and turned me. Any longer and I wouldn't have made it. I don't actually remember much about it.”

“Oh, dude, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, it was long ago,” Pete insisted, his eyes fixed tightly on the road ahead.

Patrick’s stomach was heavy and his whole body felt like live wire. He swallowed harshly as Pete took the next exit into Patrick’s suburb. The reality that he had to go home and Pete couldn’t come with him left a bitter taste in his tongue.

“I don’t want to go home,” Patrick admitted, looking up at Petes road stare. Petes knuckles tightened minutely on the wheel.

“I don’t want you to go home if you don’t want to.”

Patrick pondered for a moment just telling Pete to keep driving. What if he just did that. What if they just drove off together and never came back?

Patrick couldn’t do that to his Mom.

“I’ve got to go home,” he sighed, “Mom will be worried.”

Pete pulled to a stop half a street down, flicked the lights off in the car and there was only a brief moment of silence before Pete hooked an arm around the back of Patrick’s neck and pulled him into a hard kiss. The moment swirled on for a lifetime before Pete let go and Patrick took a deep breath to steady himself. Petes eyes twinkled like ebony stones in the muted streetlight, his gaze causing a now familiar stir in Patrick’s stomach.

“I better go,” he whispered, opening the door and climbing out of the car seat. He’d just gained his footing and a familiar hand grabbed his.

“Patrick, I love you.”

Patrick drew a breath so fast he almost hiccuped. He held tight to Pete’s hand before climbing back into the car, across the gear box and onto Pete’s lap. Patrick straddled Pete’s lap hard, leant down and kissed Pete hard, gently scraping his teeth against the immortals lip. A low rumble escaped from Pete’s throat as he returned the kiss with earnest.

Patrick pulled away with a huff climbing out of the car on Pete’s side and turned back to Pete before he closed the door again.

“I love you too.”

Patrick then turned on his heel and swiftly snuck back towards his house, the taste of Pete’s lips still heavy on his tongue.

~

Patrick almost made it back to his room.

Almost.

“Patrick, where have you been?”

Patrick at the top of the stairs. His father was standing at the top of the stares, still in his work suit, and work expression; professional, calm, terrifying…

“I…”

Patrick’s heart rate had definitely soared past 100 by now.

“And don’t think of lying either, it won’t help you.”

Patrick slowly swallowed. His chest hurt.

“I was out with a friend.”

“Who?”

“Friends from school-”

“And you lose your shirt while you’re out with friends?”

Patrick stomach plummeted. He was so utterly aware of the bite mark of the side of his neck. Had his father seen that yet? Surely not, he would have reacted…

“Are you going to answer me or stand there like a deer in the headlights?”

Patrick’s Dad took another step forward, so close to Patrick that he knew that it was only a matter of time until he saw the bite mark.

“Let me fill in the blanks. Obviously you’ve been out with some girl, god knows where, making out and forgetting all about your responsibilities-”

Patrick opened his mouth to reply. He wasn’t sure what how he was going to reply but he needed to defend himself.

“- no, don’t speak yet – Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been your age, I get it, but that is why I’m helping you. I’m keeping you on the right track but by god, you are not making it easy for me – Patrick, you’re bleeding!”

Fuck. His Fathers gaze was on his neck. Patrick looked down at his shoulder, his neck twinging. The small amount of blood that had been trickling from the wound had now turned into quite a large amount. Patrick’s stomach heaved slightly and he felt sweat beading up on his forehead.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? PATRICK?”

His head began to swirl and the last thing Patrick saw before he passed out was a swish of dark hair.

 

~~

 

Patricks head was spinning but he was beginning to pick up conversation around him.

“Pete, really you either need to get prepared for a tiresome schedule or just turn him. Either way, you have your hands full.”

Patrick’s eyes snapped open and met with a harsh overhead fluoro. He squinted hard and closed his eyes again.

“He’s awake,” the voice sounded relieved, “Now you can talk to him.”

“Gabe, he almost died. I am not overwhelming him right now.”

“Pete,” Patrick coughed out, his throat felt like he’d swallowed fire, “What’s wrong with me?”

Because something was definitely going on. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt faint since he’d met Pete. This wasn’t the first time…

“Am I sick?”

“Yes, but no,” The person called Gabe replied to my question. I didn’t want to turn my neck to look at him so I just listened, “Your connection with Pete is starting to produce symptoms in your body that are… unique to our species. You’re exhibiting symptoms of newborn thirst and their reaction to blood deprivation. Because Pete didn’t kill you when he first recognized your connection, his blood is now telling your body that you need to be turned.”

“But I – How do I – What do I do?”

“Well besides from the most logical option of being turned-”

“-logical?”

“- the condition can be alleviated by feeding.”

“Feeding,” Patrick found the strength in himself to pull himself into a standing position, eyes facing the suave dark haired vampire standing next to Pete “As in drinking blood? I need to drink blood?”

“Pete’s blood specifically,” Gabe replied, his sharp eyes wondering all over Patrick as he reached with a hand and pulled Pete forward. In quick swift motion, Gabe’s finger nail sliced deep across the small crease in Pete’s arm. Pete gasped and a growl ripped from his chest. Patrick felt a jolt through his stomach and let out a small whimper as the smell of Pete’s blood hit his senses like a wrecking ball. He leapt off the table he’d been lying on, grabbed Pete’s arm and brought his mouth quickly to the wound. One small part of his brain was screaming through the haze; what was he doing? He was actually drinking blood and he could feel how refreshed and alive he felt. The metallic aftertaste wasn’t pleasant but any disgust was drowned before it could even near the surface.

Patrick drank for another minute or so before he became acutely aware of the heat radiating off of Pete’s body. He pulled away from the wound, the bleeding had begun to dull anyway, and looked up at Pete.

“Trick,” he whispered, smashing his lips against Patrick’s. Patrick reached up and wrapped one hand around the back of Pete’s neck, bringing their bodies together as Patrick licked the smear of blood off the corner of Pete’s lips.

Their brief pause was the saviour Gabe had been searching.

“I’m still here, guys. Just a reminder. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Pete lifted Patrick into his arms and at Pete speed, whisked him out of the building

“Ah, Kids,” Gabe snorted, walking to close the door behind them, “They’ll be back soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws chapter at you and runs away*  
> Hey.  
> Sorry.  
> Life and stuff, ya know?


End file.
